


Stolen From the Violet

by entity9silvergen



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Adventuring, Alternate Universe - Magic, Anxceit if you want, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Needs a Hug, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders-centric, Background Royality - Freeform, Birds, Boats and Ships, Dragons, Fandom Blind, Fantasy AU, Fighting, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Losing friends, Magic, Magic AU, Memory Loss, Minor Violence, Morally Neutral Deceit Sanders, Not a romance fic, Past Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Deceit Sanders, Platonic Prinxiety mostly, Prinxiety if you want, Puff the Magic Dragon, Rituals, Shapeshifting, Snake!Deceit, Songfic, Sorcerers, Unsympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, dragon!virgil, dragonfic, fire tear, it's sad i'm sorry guys, minor language warning, platonic heartbreak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:54:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23581939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entity9silvergen/pseuds/entity9silvergen
Summary: Immortality isn’t all it’s cut out to be. For a human, immortality is just a thousand years of struggle and fading memories. No mere man can truly be immortal. But the best sorcerers are born in those thousand years and Virgil and Deceit are no exception.Neither can remember why they decided to curse themselves with long life or why they hate each other but the past is in the past and both men are eager to make the other pay. In the end, it was Deceit who came out on top.A fate worse than death, he claimed, but Virgil didn’t think transforming into a dragon could be so bad. After all, a dragon lives forever. But then he met a certain human who changed everything. Roman became his new reason for life, for better or for worse.Loneliness was painful but loss was agony.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Deceit Sanders, Background Royality, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Deceit Sanders, Past Anxceit - Relationship
Comments: 27
Kudos: 69





	1. Prolouge

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there guys and welcome to this story! I got the idea a few months ago and told myself I'd write a short story based around the children's song Puff the Magic Dragon but it ended up taking me for a ride I did not expect. If you have not heard the song, it's very sad so just a heads up for the direction this fic is going. Hope you guys stick around and enjoy this story.

It would be cliche to say it all began on a dark and stormy night but it would be a lie to say it hadn’t.

One could argue it started long before the sun set, that it began when the two sorcerers confronted each other at daybreak, but truth be told, the details on how the fight went down really did not have much effect on the story that would soon unfold. Staffs clashed and bolts of magic scarred the land but both the necromancer and the warlock would soon forget what exactly went down during their fight. The only thing that mattered was who came out on top.

Virgil silently cursed himself for his failure as he shivered in the corner of Deceit’s lair. He was cold and soaked to the bone thanks to a trek through the rain on the way here. Regardless, he was thankful for the weather. He always felt at home in the darkness and shadows- ironic, considering it was Deceit who was the necromancer and not him- but it was the rain that provided the most comfort. Over the sound of the rain smacking the stone outside, Virgil could hardly hear the way his chains scraped against the ground as he shivered. It drew his mind away from the sound of his teeth chattering. If he focused enough, he could ignore the blood roaring in his ears and the loud thumps of his heart pounding against his chest. So, yes. No matter how cold and uncomfortable he was, the rain was a blessing.

Virgil shifted, trying to get to his knees despite the protests of every bone and muscle in his body. The lighting was dim and the back of the cave was even darker than the damp cloak wrapped around Virgil’s prone form but Virgil’s eyes always worked well at nighttime. Maybe it was his affinity for the darker powers, maybe his human side was just gifted, he didn’t know. Either way, he could make out the silhouette of his enemy scuttling around the lair with the same confidence and ease as he had on the battlefield.

Both the warlock and the necromancer were far older than either appeared but still leaned to the younger side of sorcerers. Still, neither could quite remember how their bitter rivalry began. It wasn’t a grapple between good and evil, both men dabbled in either side; it wasn’t a blood feud between clans of mystics, neither man had an honorable bloodline to speak of; and it certainly wasn’t anything personal. Or at least they thought as much. If it was, Virgil couldn’t remember. There was a chance they had known each other in their youth before either gained their powers but those memories had long since faded and Virgil doubted their existence in the first place.

He just knew the two’s destinies were tied. Deceit and Virgil were locked in eternal battle and neither could give in. Virgil didn’t understand it nor did he question it. He’d been fighting Deceit as long as he could remember and he had no issue with it. The snake faced sorcerer dipped his hand in more necromancy than Virgil thought any mortal should. It took its toll on the necromancer, especially the rituals connecting him to the serpent deities of the underworld, but Deceit showed no sign of slowing down. One day, he could cross a line. And Virgil was going to be there to stop him.

He didn’t know why Deceit hated him as much as he did. Something he’d forgotten long ago as well, he’d guess. Oh, how he cursed the spell that granted them long life. What was the use in living a thousand years if you could only remember the past lifetime? Virgil thought both he and Deceit were fools for seeking longevity in the first place but, alas, he couldn’t recall any detail about his pursuit for it. Maybe he had a good reason. Who knew?

Part of him wondered if he and Deceit performed the ritual together. That they, as friends and allies, wanted to live the promised thousand years at each other’s side. It was a foolish thought, one that only surfaced on the rarest of nights when Virgil’s spiralling mind refused to let him rest, and one that troubled him greatly. He could remember fragments of the past and glimpses of a younger Deceit. He wondered how much Deceit remembered. Did he know why they were fighting? Did he care? Did he just want to put a stop to this endless cycle of conflict? Or did he remember some detail that Virgil didn’t? Was there a reason he wanted Virgil dead?

“Shut up,” Deceit grunted from the other side of the cave. He didn’t raise his voice but the clink of a vial echoed through the cave as he placed it on the table. He cast a glance at his prisoner over his shoulder, a lone yellow eye gleaming through the darkness. Virgil tried his best not to shiver. Deceit’s snake side never failed to unnerve him.

“I didn’t say a word,” Virgil responded snidely.

“I can practically hear you thinking,” Deceit complained as he picked up another vial. Virgil couldn’t see what it was but he could see the mystic energy leaking from Deceit’s gloved hands bleeding into the liquid. Deceit’s eyes remained trained on it, not sparing his enemy another glance, and shook the vial carefully. “It’s so loud.”

“Oh my! My apologies! I’m so sorry! I’m thinking? I hadn’t realized.”

Deceit snorted and turned away. “I could do without the sarcasm.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “It’s your own fault. You're the king of sarcasm. After all these years of fighting, it was bound to rub off on me.”

“I won’t miss our combat banter,” Deceit answered coolly. He set down the vial and picked up a bowl. He crossed the cave, looking into the herb stores for the right plant to grind into… whatever he was cooking up. Virgil wasn’t sure. “You prefer kava or cannabis?”

“For eating or potions?”

“Either,” Deceit hummed, running his hand over the shelves. “Both work. Seeing as this ritual will end you, I figured I’d ease your pain a bit.”

“Ritual?” Virgil echoed. He frowned. “Oh, hell no. You’re not going to sacrifice me to that snake god of yours, are you? I’ve gotta say, might think you can pull off those scales but you really don’t. I don’t want to end up with your ugly mug.”

A faint hiss sounded from the other side of the room but Deceit showed no physical signs of irritation. He plucked an herb off his shelf and returned to the station where the rest of his supplies were.

“There are fates worse than death,” Deceit said casually as he began crushing the herb with a fist-sized stone into his bowl. “I’ve obtained some rather rare materials for a particular ritual that I’m just dying to try out. It’d be a waste to try it on anyone other than you.”

“I’m flattered,” Virgil responded, voice dripping with sarcasm. He jerked his head, trying to flip his mop of purple hair away from his eyes. Geez, when did it get so long? He hadn’t noticed until now. He hadn’t planned on growing it out but this was a decent start if he wanted to. Maybe he’d give it a shot. If he got out of this, that is.

The chains holding him down were charmed rather thoroughly. Deceit made no mistake, making sure to enchant the chains, the rings of metal holding them to the ground, and even the ground itself. He hadn’t taken Virgil’s cloak but he’d bound his hands in a way that even if he had a lock pick, he could reach it. Not that Virgil knew how to use a lock pick. With magic at his fingertips, those kinds of skills seemed so… mundane. He could open a door with a snap of his finger, why would he need to waste time playing with a lock’s inner workings?

Now, of course, he regretted his reliance on his power. He could still feel it brimming under the surface of his skin but Deceit had done something to prevent him from using his spells or conjuring anything to aid him. It felt odd to be unable to draw on his power. If he was under different circumstances, he’d ask what kind of enchantment the chains had. Virgil never encountered anything like them. It caught his curiosity. 

Virgil realized he’d gotten caught up in gazing at them when Deceit roughly grabbed him by the back of the cloak and dragged him toward the center of the cave. “Hey!”

Deceit jerked his arm, jostling his fellow mystic. “Be silent. This’ll be easier if you don’t talk.”

“What are you- Hey! Are you taking me outside? We’re going to get drenched!”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to perform a teleportation spell inside my home.”

“We’re teleporting? Why? Why can’t you kill me here? Don’t want to deal with my body?”

“Something like that,” Deceit mused. He dropped Virgil in the mud right outside the cave entrance unceremoniously. “Don’t go anywhere.” 

“Right. Because prisoners totally listen to their captures,” Virgil sighed as he picked himself up. He glared but Deceit was already gone, back inside to retrieve his herbs, artifacts, and potions. The rain pressed Virgil’s hair against his face. He blew out through his mouth, trying to get it out of his face to no avail.

Deceit returned within a few moments. He cast a glance at Virgil’s disheveled appearance, making Virgil withdraw into his cloak a bit more, but didn’t comment on it. Both men were still roughed up from their battle but somehow Virgil looked so much worse than Deceit. How did he manage to stay so clean? When Virgil fought, his hair got in his face and spit flew everywhere. His movements were jerky and indecisive despite the end result. He just wasn’t a graceful fighter and he’d long since accepted that. How did Deceit always remain so composed?

“You ready?”

Virgil let out yet another snort. “Whatever.”

Deceit remained silent as he stepped between Virgil and the spot he’d placed his basket of ritual goods. He widened his stance, clasping his hands together, and allowed his eyes to roll back as he began to utter foreign words under his breath.  _ “ _ _ Ianuae Magicae magicas onerariis. Ianuae Magicae magicas onerariis. Ianuae Magicae magicas onerariis. Ianuae Magicae magicas onerariis.” _

Virgil recognized the incantation as a teleportation spell like Deceit said it was but it didn’t ease his anxiety in the slightest. In a heartbeat, he felt a flash of magic surround him and suddenly he was in a cove overlooking the coast. He momentarily felt nauseous and nearly fell over but a firm hand on his forearm caught him. Virgil scowled at Deceit and roughly pulled his arm away, hiding it under his cloak. Deceit looked unimpressed and casually strolled away.

Before Virgil had time to wonder if he could make an escape, Deceit waved a hand and twin jade snakes materialized around his body, coiling around him securely. Virgil struggled for a few seconds on instinct even though he knew the effort was futile. Deceit’s snake bindings were as strong as the webs Virgil often conjured. Deceit wasn’t taking any chances.

Thunder clapped overhead and the downpour somehow grew even heavier. Virgil sighed and leaned against a large stone as Deceit picked up his basket and moved inward. Virgil watched him boredly as he pulled artifacts from his basket and began placing them on the sandy earth.

Virgil recognized most of them, some more than others, but he had no inkling as to what Deceit was planning. He spotted more than a few bones and blades which weren't that unusual for a ritual but he also saw some kind of horn and a number of… scales? Ew. Did he get those off himself? No, of course not. They were too big. Perhaps some kind of large predatory lizard? He had no idea nor did he see any sort of pattern or similarities between the various artifacts. 

Virgil zone out by the time Deceit began dumping potions on the ground to draw the symbols connecting the various artifacts and by the time he snapped out of it, Deceit was already channeling some of his power into the markings. A satisfied smile appeared on his face when the liquid on the ground glowed a deep yellow, lighting up like lightning bugs in the night.

When Deceit grabbed Virgil by the wrist to drag him into the ring, Virgil noticed Deceit was shivering. It was cold and that snakeskin certainly didn’t help but Virgil couldn’t help but wonder if Deceit was afraid as he was. While Virgil had no desire to die, he had no fear of death. Even if his extended lifespan was cut short, he still knew he had a place in the afterlife. That knowledge, however, provided no solace. It was the land of the living where his fight was. What would Deceit do once he was gone? He was a necromancer but hadn’t sworn his soul away to any god of the underworld. He had contact with the serpents but didn’t seem at all inclined to carry out their will and… do whatever snake deities wanted for the world. Would that change? Or would Deceit settle down? Practice his art in peace? Maybe even turn away from this kind of life?

Virgil’s eyes briefly met Deceit’s. Their eyes looked nothing like, with Virgil’s dark and brimming with purple power and Deceit’s mismatched eyes dancing with sharp yellow energy. But in the moment, both looked so human. Virgil swore he saw a glimpse of fear in Deceit’s eyes, making him wonder if the shivering was from the cold alone. Did Deceit know what he was going to do once Virgil was gone? For years, the two lived isolated lives with no purpose save fighting each other. With Virgil gone, what would Deceit do?

As much as Virgil hated the necromancer, he didn’t  _ hate _ him. He was his constant, the only thing he could count on. They could go years without seeing each other but he was always aware of his presence, no matter how distant, and that was comforting. He held no fear of the future because he was an outsider with nothing to look forward to in life. Any future he could imagine, Deceit was there.

Virgil knew his time had come and as predicted, Deceit was there with him. But now Deceit was going to have to continue without his constant. Virgil couldn’t imagine how difficult that would be. He felt hopeless at times but at least he had some kind of purpose, some kind of destiny. With Virgil gone, Deceit would lose that. Maybe he’d move on to newer goals and set his sight on new horizons but if he was anything like Virgil, the loss of his sole companion, even if that companion wasn’t a friendly one, would make him wither away.

Virgil was shoved into the middle of the ritual. Deceit made some slight of hand and pillars shot out of the earth, surrounding the circle of symbols. The grass around them grew tall and thick, vines sprouting from the ground, and climbed the pillars of stone like ivy. They reached out and winded themselves around Virgil’s wrists and ankles. The snakes binding him faded and the vines held him down with unparalleled strength.

Fat drops of rain buffeted his face and he shook his head in annoyance. He turned his head to the side to keep it from getting in his nose and mouth. When he did, his eyes fell on Deceit and he felt the flurry of feelings fade at the sight of his hated enemy. For what felt like the millionth time, he longed to remember why they were fighting, why they hated each other so much. Well, thinking about it, Virgil had to say the hate was more on Deceit’s side than his. Lying here, facing his end, that fiery, burning rage simmered down. It was still there yet not at the same time. Virgil still didn’t like Deceit, they were far from friends, but right now he just felt empty. He didn’t have much to live for, true, but he would’ve liked to spend a bit more time in this realm. 

If their positions were reversed, Virgil didn’t think he would kill Deceit. Strip him of his power and force him to live a normal, mortal life, sure, but kill him? Probably not. Mortality was more of a punishment to an immortal than death. Death was a relief, mortal life left room for pain.

Maybe Deceit knew that. Virgil suddenly realized the snake-faced sorcerer never explicitly said he’d kill him. In fact, he’d said there were fates worse than death. Come to think of it, there were no symbols for death, soul-stealing, or portals to the underworld on the ritual. Heck, even the artifacts didn’t seem particularly dark. Lying close to them like this, Virgil could feel the energy humming in them and it didn’t feel like anything he’d associate with death. It felt concentrated and ancient but not evil. Anything but. Did this mean Deceit had other plans for him?

“Why go through all this trouble?” Virgil spoke up suddenly. He tried to crane his neck upward to get a better look at his fellow sorcerer but he couldn’t quite bend that way.

“Hmm?” Deceit looked up from his basket where he was rummaging for… Virgil still didn’t know. Rituals weren’t a warlock’s specialty but Virgil had had his hand in a fair share of them over the years and he could tell what this one was missing. A focus. With all the power he could feel brimming around him, he knew it would have to be a good one. Deceit himself said it was rare and Virgil found curiosity bubbling up in his chest. He knew it was inappropriate to be intrigued at a time like this but he couldn’t help it. It had been a long time since he was just a boy fascinated by magic but no one completely grew up, not even sorcerers centuries old. 

“If you were planning to kill me, you could just take a dagger to my neck. Why the ritual?”

“There are fates worse than death,” Deceit repeated. His expression suddenly shifted as he found whatever he was looking for. “Ah! Here it is. A frozen dragon’s tear.”

Virgil’s demeanor completely transformed. His body went rigid and it wasn’t from the temperature finally catching up with him. “What?”

“The essence of a dragon,” Deceit said casually, holding up the object in question. Clouds covered the moon so no moonbeams illuminated it but Virgil could still see a spark of fire in Deceit’s hands through the shroud of night. There was a frosty layer over it but it was melting away fast, leaving a semi-solid, semi-liquid droplet in Deceit’s palm. Deceit smiled in a way that was almost soft. “A dragon’s internal fire is his soul. When he loses it, his life force slips away and he dies. No, it’s more than death. When someone dies, the door of opportunity opens but a dragon rarely has that luxury.”

“Why?” Virgil found himself asking. He understood the gateway to the afterlife as well as Deceit. Almost always, the deceased was given a choice: find peace in the afterlife or return to the land of the living in a new body. Or go to the underworld but that wasn’t really applicable here. Dragons soared in the heavens. They would never lurk in the deeper realms. Besides, dragons never stood at the gates. Dragons couldn’t die. Right?

“It’s called a fire tear,” Deceit said as if the answer were obvious.

“That doesn’t mean anything to me,” Virgil scoffed. He tossed his head to one side, once again trying to get his soaked hair away from his face. Lightning flashed overhead. “Can you just hurry this up? I’m freezing.”

Deceit exhaled through his mouth and rolled his eyes. He took a few steps toward him and placed the fire tear on Virgil’s chest. Virgil eyed it but made no effort to shake it off. He probably couldn’t if he tried but he knew how badly a spell could go if something interfered with it. The result would likely be worse than whatever Deceit was planning.

“What is this going to do to me?” Virgil questioned, gaze flickering between the glow on his chest and Deceit’s retreating form.

Deceit shot him a glance over his shoulder and smirked. “Why, turn you into a dragon of course.”

Virgil burst out laughing. Deceit scowled silently.

“You call being a dragon a fate worse than death?” Virgil howled through his laughter. “A dragon lives forever! You’re granting me immortality. If anything, you’re spelling your own death, Deceit. Dragon Witches are renowned for their power. You think you can stand against a Dragon Warlock?”

“I don’t need to,” Deceit said smugly. “I’ll only live… Oh, I don’t know, another six centuries? I’m really not sure. Keeping track of time is difficult when your memories don't keep up. You, however, will live much longer than that. And your death will be all the more painful.”

“Dumbass,” Virgil responded, still grinning. “Didn’t you hear me? A dragon lives forever! Everyone knows that, even powerless peasants without a spark of magic in their veins. If you think dying in a dragon’s body is going to hap-”

“Fool. No one truly lives forever,” Deceit interrupted with a grunt. He loosely gestured at the droplet of fire on Virgil’s chest. “A dragon’s life force is right there before us. You don’t think that dragon is still alive after shedding its fire tear, do you?”

Virgil shut his mouth. He hadn’t thought of that. He knew Deceit wasn’t lying, he wouldn’t take all this time to explain if he was making things up, but Virgil still didn’t know what he was trying to do. A fate worse than death? Virgil was dying no matter what. Whether it be in the body of a human or that of a dragon, he was still dying and continuing to the afterlife as planned. The first thing a sorcerer did when he gained his power was to secure a place in the afterlife. Virgil didn’t remember what he did but he knew he had somewhere waiting for him. Turning into a dragon would delay that but Virgil would hardly call that a fate worse than death. Of course, he would really rather not be a dragon but it seemed to be an inconvenience more than anything.

Deceit sighed and gave him a smile twisted with false pity. “You really are stupid, aren’t you? A dragon dies when he loses his fire tear. It’s a tear. Not just some random liquid that spills out. A tear. Crying kills them. Imagine the agony someone would have to experience to cry his life away.”

Virgil shut his mouth. It hadn’t occurred to him. That sounded awful. But at the same time, it still sounded like a terrible plan. “You of all people should know I’m not the emotional type.”

“I know,” Deceit hummed, moving to the rim of the ritual. “Like you said, a dragon lives forever. I’m sure I won’t see it but it will happen eventually. And that’s all that matters.”

Virgil frowned and opened his mouth to argue but the words died in his throat and his mouth closed softly. What could he say? He was at Deceit’s mercy. Granted, he knew he could put up more of a struggle but without his magic at his disposal, he could do little more than try to break the vines pinning him down with brute strength and he knew he couldn’t do that. He was dyi- No, he was becoming a dragon tonight whether he liked it or not.

What a bizarre way to end their endless fight, Virgil thought. Did Deceit truly think dying as a dragon was worse than dying in human form? Virgil couldn’t fully fathom it but he couldn’t imagine being distraught to the point of death. If anything, this would make his life a bit easier. Virgil had spent the past few centuries alone. He couldn’t live among humans, he couldn’t afford to get attached. Virgil hadn’t seen a dragon in… Well, he couldn’t remember seeing a dragon but he was certain he’d seen one at some point in his life. He knew there were dragons out there. Now that he was one of them, he could seek their company and maybe find a new purpose.

Virgil’s expression became smug as satisfaction spread through his body. Deceit clearly hadn’t thought this through. He would be fine, better than he was now. He wasn’t looking forward to becoming a dragon but could count this as a blessing.

Little did the warlock know, he would later think himself a fool for even considering that, let alone having this much confidence in the thought, down the road. Deceit’s plan, no matter how ridiculous it seemed now, would pan out even better than the necromancer could have ever predicted.

But in the moment, Virgil would just watch Deceit without a care in the world.

Deceit smirked and clasped his hands together, flashes of mystic power sparking off them at the motion, before thrusting his hands out. The markings on the earth began glowing before Deceit even began chanting.  _ “Rituale romanum interpretari draco. Rituale romanum interpretari draco. Rituale romanum interpretari draco!” _

The artifacts and markings etched around Virgil lit up, almost blinding him with brilliant yellow energy. The artifacts lining the edges slowly began to levitate, strings of lighting suddenly connecting them and reaching out to strike Virgil. Virgil cried out at the feeling of another’s magic invading his body but he could hardly hear his own screams. If anything, the noise just blended into the background and the hum of magic.

Absently, he was aware of Deceit leaving, his cloak flapping in the wind as he turned away, but his mind was more focused on the ritual. Yellow magic danced in the air around him, bright and joyous as the sun and far more painful. Virgil flinched as the magic lashed out at him. It felt like being struck with lightning. For a sorcerer, it was nothing intolerable. Painful and unpleasant but nothing too bad.

That was until some loose magic hit the fire tear resting on his chest.

Virgil assumed the magic activated it or something like that but suddenly there was a boiling pain on his chest as the fire tear seeped through his cloak and tunic and pressed against his skin. If Virgil screamed, he couldn’t hear it over the burning pain of the fire tear trying to enter him. Around him, the artifacts spun but he didn’t pay any mind. Even when the bones pressed against his skin and began fusing with his body, he didn’t notice. All he could focus on was the presence of  _ something _ inside him.

It was hot and painful yet deep and almost celestial at the same time. It was powerful but power Virgil didn’t want inside of him. And it hurt. It  _ burned _ . When it settled in his ribcage, it felt like his insides were being scorched with a flaming hot fire spell but at least an offensive spell only hit in one place. The burning sensation flooded every inch of his body, inside and out, all the way from his eyes to his fingertips to his toenails.

It made him feel alive.

It made his soul feel ablaze.

It was like his inner energy had been dormant, an unlit candle, and the fire tear exploding in his chest was the match to light it.

And by the gods, it hurt.

Fuck, it hurt.

Why did it hurt so much?

Virgil hated burns. To him, they were the worst kind of injury. And now his insides were cooking. He felt so hot but he wasn’t overheating. It wasn’t like a fever or heatstroke. He wasn’t sweating. It was like there was a literal fire inside him, licking his organs and muscles with a scorching tongue. He hated it. He wanted it to end.

But when the heat died down, the pain didn’t end.

Virgil felt his bones crack and suddenly his ribcage was expanding. His skull began breaking itself, finding a new shape to call its own. And his spine… By the gods, his spine. It cracked and bent and broke in ways that just felt painful and wrong. Virgil could feel each vertebrae, the way some grew longer and some grew thicker. He could swear he could feel new bones forming along his shoulders. In a way, it was almost liberating but he couldn’t fathom why. He just knew it hurt.

Through his skeleton reforming, he hardly noticed his skin changing. His cloak and hair were plastered against his skin thanks to spending so long outside in the rain. Some of the artifacts pressed against his skin and, along with his cloak and hair, began fusing with his body, forming a shell around him.

Virgil’s eyes went wide as a sharp pain shot down from his neck and a loud crack filled the cove. Was his neck breaking? That was a stupid question, of course it was. Everything was breaking. Stone-like scales began forming along his neck and down his body but that didn’t stop the pain. 

Black spots began filling his vision. Not an uncommon occurrence seeing as Virgil suffered from anxiety attacks quite regularly. Recalling words of a voice he couldn’t identify, Virgil tried his best to breath and regain his composure but the intake of oxygen only seemed to fuel the fire, making the searing pain flare up again.

Before he knew it, Virgil’s mind decided it couldn’t handle the pain anymore and sent him into a deep, dreamless slumber.


	2. By the Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea and frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honahlee.

He didn’t expect it to be so bad. He expected it to be pretty good actually.

He didn’t want to be a dragon but before the transformation, he didn’t think it would cause any problems. Dragons could still perform magic, he knew. Sorcery was the life of an immortal. Dragons had a natural affinity for it, surely it would only help him. And it wasn’t like he spent that much time near civilization. His new form would make him more suited for cave dwellings. Maybe it would make a life of solitude a bit easier. Dragons naturally lived long and alone. He thought his new form would only help him cope.

Boy was he wrong.

Virgil could not find the words to express how wrong he was.

For some reason, Virgil thought Deceit would turn him into something more serpentine. It just fit the necromancer’s aesthetic more than something more beastly but it was incredibly naive to think that Deceit would just happen to get the fire tear of an Eastern Dragon for his spell just because he liked snakes. Fire tears were rare, even a sorcerer as aged and experienced as Virgil hardly knew a thing about them. It was an anomaly Deceit even had one to begin with.

A traditional Western Dragon was probably the last species Virgil would’ve picked. Sure, he respected the creatures but they just didn’t suit him. His natural form was compact and fast, perfect for hiding and ducking into shadows. Now he was massive and bulky, easily towering twelve feet from the ground with a wingspan well over thirty. He was too large for forest caves and he was hunted anytime he even neared a town. Not that he could do much among humans anyway.

Before his transformation, Virgil always stood out with his dark cloak and violet eyes. It was hard to find someone who wouldn’t turn away at the sight of him and even barter with the non-magic civilians who didn’t run. But at least he could talk to them. This new body stripped him of that right.

Virgil was a quiet person but the loss of his voice hurt more than he could have ever predicted. A voice was an extension of the soul, the channel for the most basic magic. He wasn’t stripped of his power, he was too well-versed in the ways of a mystic for that, but losing the ability to manipulate the sounds in his throat just made him feel all the more hopeless.

A sorcerer had no place among mankind and a dragon had even less. He couldn’t go near a town without the risk of being chased away. Knights or peasants, it didn’t matter. Virgil could destroy them with a single breath but that didn’t mean he wanted to. The sight of torches and swords was enough to make him tremble and flee. He didn’t want to fight.

So he wandered. He wandered the forests, he wandered the coasts, he wandered the moors, he wanders islands. He wandered everywhere. Maybe, just maybe, he could find a place to call his own. He knew dragons lived in powerful clans dozens strong. For years, he held onto a glimmer of hope that he could find one. He knew even if he found one, he might not be accepted but he couldn’t help but cling to the hope he’d find something. Anything.

That glimmer held on for a surprisingly long time but it had to die eventually. There were no dragons left. No one to stand beside, no one to give his life meaning. He was all alone against a world that hated him.

Was this what Deceit meant? Was this a fate worse than death? A life plagued by loneliness was no life at all. It hurt and for a long time, Virgil hated his old foe for it. Consumed by rage and self-pity, he lashed out. Not caring for his own morality, Virgil became as violent as the dragons of legends.

Years later, he couldn’t recall the fits of destruction all that well and he knew it had nothing to do with his fading memory. Dragons’ memories didn’t fade like humans. He knew his mind forgot whatever he did on purpose. And frankly, he was happy that way. He didn’t want to know of his crimes. He could imagine them well enough.

But the anger faded with time like all things did and Virgil was once again left feeling lost and lonely. Thus, he wandered.

He eventually found a cave to call his own. It was spacious, more than large enough to accommodate his size, and it was nestled into the coast of a secluded island. It was rather beautiful, he’d say.

It was here he learned to love himself.

Well, love was a strong word. Virgil could never love himself but he learned to not loathe himself and maybe he found some inner peace. He wasn’t sure. He just knew it was better.

A winged dragon couldn’t dive or explore the depths of the sea but Virgil didn’t mourn the loss long. Despite wandering for years, Virgil never realized how much joy flying was until he tried soaring.

Virgil knew his way around a levitation spell but nothing quite compared to truly flying. That first time he climbed atop the cliffside and leaped into the air, wings spread wide, it felt like he was truly alive for the first time.

Skimming the surface of the water, surging high into the sky, dancing around clouds... It was so peaceful. He could throw his head back and roar to the heavens and his voice would travel forever, echoing only in his chest. It was invigorating. There was nothing quite like it.

It was during one of these flights Virgil saw his reflection for the first time.

Virgil always looked up when he flew, eyes always wondering how much higher he could go, but one day he decided to watch the waves. That’s when he saw it. It startled him at first but the more he stared, the more captivated he grew.

Virgil knew he was a large creature but he never took the chance to admire the sharp curve of his pearly white claws or the rich black of his scales. He looked so… powerful. His body was long and thick with muscle, tail winding behind him and long neck arched forward. His legs were short and sturdy and his scales reached back almost like horns. It looked so foreign. He was  _ menacing _ . But his eyes mirrored the man behind the beast. They were so deeply violet, just like they were when he was a mere man. One glance was all he needed to remember his humanity. He wasn’t just a dragon. He was still Virgil. He knew he’d always experience some kind of disconnect from this body but he just looked so… him.

It was in that moment Virgil found peace.

He’d already grown to love his home but it took a flight and a reflection for him to accept himself.

Free from such heavy feelings, his days became a bit easier.

Virgil continued to hone his sorcery. He couldn’t continue his search for books of times past but he could still experiment with his magic and practice his spells. On occasion, he’d leave his home to visit the dwellings he’d lived in long ago. They were often ransacked and raided but he was able to retrieve a number of books and artifacts. But he always came back to the cove. Afterall, it was home.

A decent part of his life became just exploring his new home and his new body. Flights, of course, were daily. He wasn’t suited for swimming but fishing proved to be rather entertaining, not to mention filling. The island was lush with life and Virgil took it upon himself to find the best patches of edible plants. He left the wildlife alone for the most part but sometimes he just couldn’t help but give into his predatory instincts and chase a deer or two. He was always an anxious being and letting his adrenaline take over brought unparalleled thrill. 

Most of his days were spent sunning. Nothing beat the heat of the sun on his scales. He doubted he was cold blooded but the sun always lulled him into relaxation. Paired with the sweet ocean breeze, Virgil could lose hours just dozing on the beach.

It was one of those days spent sunning that Virgil met Roman.

The island was so secluded from human life because of a heavy mist that lingered in a ring around the island. It was maybe a mile offshore and Virgil could easily fly over it but boats got lost in it quite easily. When he first came to the island, he’d investigate any boats that drifted near but they never reached his island so he stopped. No need in getting worked up over something that couldn’t harm him.

He’d grown complacent. He’d let his guard down.

Virgil was waking up from a deep slumber in the sun when he saw something he shouldn’t lying on the beach. At first, he thought his mind was playing tricks on him but the sight didn’t vanish when he blinked the sleep away. Pulling himself to his paws, he slunk forward hesitantly to investigate.

Whatever it was was white. Too white. Unnaturally white. Like the cloth sails were made from. Definitely manmade. That wasn’t right. Upon further inspection, Virgil realized it was a tunic. And there was a boy in the tunic.

_ “A human?” _ Virgil questioned, wincing at the sound of his own voice. He hated the way it came out as a low growl rather than neatly formed words. At least the human wasn’t awake to hear.

Virgil frowned, circling the human. Or at least he tried. The human was too small to properly circle. If he’d been standing, he wouldn’t reach halfway to Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil’s eyes narrowed, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Why was this human there? Had he been discovered? He didn’t think so. This human had no boat, not even drift wood. It smelled like he’d been in the water for a long time before washing up on shore. A swimmer maybe? Maybe he was cast off a ship.

Virgil didn’t know and it didn’t matter. The human wasn’t moving. A faint rise and fall of the human’s chest told Virgil that he wasn’t dead but the boy was clearly unconscious and Virgil had no desire for him to stay.

Lifting a massive paw, Virgil prodded the boy, trying to rouse him. The boy reacted ever so slightly but didn’t awaken. Virgil sighed. He’d have to help him, wouldn’t he?

Maneuvering his claws to pick up something so delicate was difficult but Virgil managed to flip the boy over so the trapped salt water spilled from his mouth. The boy coughed and his breathing became a bit more regular but he didn’t open his eyes.

Virgil wandered to the edges of the forest and grabbed a tree in his maw. Orange, dry leaves fell off as it jostled in his jaw but he ignored it and deposited it on the sand beside the boy. When the noise didn’t wake the human, he set the tree ablaze with his inner fire, making sure to kick up some sand around it to keep the fire from getting out of control, and turned away. Heat was about all he could offer the boy.

Virgil slunk back into his cave, ignoring that longing to remain by the human. It hurt in ways that Virgil wished it didn’t. He could feel it in his ribcage, quaking his bones, but he had to push it away. He couldn’t give in. He lived a life of solitude by necessity and choice. He couldn’t let this human interrupt his carefully crafted defenses. His heart was always soft. Once someone wormed past his walls, it was hard to shake their hold on his heart. Virgil couldn’t afford to get attached. With any luck, the boy would awaken soon and be on his way without ever having seen Virgil.

Unfortunately for the dragon, he didn’t have much luck.

Thoughts of the human didn’t fade. Not wanting to think about it more than necessary, he took to his cave. The human would never come this way. Even if he hung around for a few days, Virgil would never see him if he just stayed inside until he left.

Like many things, Virgil was wrong.

Virgil was dozing when he heard it. He wasn’t exactly sure what  _ it _ was but when he looked up, he saw a figure standing at the entrance of the cave. For a moment, Virgil was too surprised to do anything but a wave of dragonic instinct took over a moment later and he slowly rose to his feet, a low snarl escaping his lips.

_ “What are you doing here?” _ Virgil growled. He took a step forward and snapped.  _ “Leave!” _

“Oh… Oh stars. It’s a dragon,” the human whispered. Virgil lowered his head, purple energy streaming from his eyes threateningly as his magic flared. He willed it down, not truly wanting to harm the human but the boy didn’t know that. The human paled. “A dragon witch?”

_ “Fool,” _ Virgil snorted and a shot of fire blew out from his nose. A dragon witch? Really? Witches were female and he didn’t look feminine in the slightest, not to mention he severely lacked any of a witch’s defining characteristics. How ignorant of this human to assume all magic wielders were the same. He was a warlock for sorcery’s sake! He tried not to let his annoyance show and he began stalking forward, keeping his belly low.  _ “Leave! This place isn’t yours!” _

The human’s eyes remained on the dragon but he didn’t take a step back. Virgil was practically towering overing him by the time he even flinched. Virgil tilted his head, looking down at him, as he got his first good look at the human.

He was male, clearly, and on the younger side. Perhaps on the lower end of his teenage years? Brown hair, fair skin, it was obvious he was native to the mainland. His white tunic, red sash, and dark trousers were torn but they looked to be well crafted. It seemed the boy had some wealth to him. The son of a merchant, perhaps, or maybe even a royal messenger. Virgil couldn’t tell, it had been decades since he’d even stepped foot in civilization. The social norms and status symbols he knew became obsolete long ago.

The boy was shaking, Virgil realized, and his heart softened ever so slightly. He looked so young. He didn’t deserve this but Virgil couldn’t let his human side get the better of him. He wouldn’t. He flared his nostrils, letting smoke stepp out of them, and his purple eyes flared with magic.

_ “This is your last warning. Leave. Now!” _

Virgil’s bellow seemed to do something to the boy but it wasn’t what Virgil was expecting. Hands still shaking, he drew a stick from his belt, holding it up like a weapon.

Virgil rolled his eyes. Seriously? This human thought he could stand a chance against him? With a mighty swipe, Virgil lashed out with one paw and batted the boy clean out of his cave.

The human cried out on impact and flew through the air, skidding in the sand outside. Virgil didn’t exactly remember what physical pain felt like but he knew that if the boy’s sleeves didn’t protect him, his skin would be broken and raw from hitting the sand. But he didn’t care. He just wanted him to leave.

Virgil lunged, launching himself out of the cave to land a few feet away from the human. Sand sprayed everywhere as the earth shook and Virgil threw his head back to roar, startling the island birds into flight.

Finally, the human reacted.

He scrambled to his feet in a heartbeat and clumsily made a break for the shore. Virgil stomped and roared, snapping after him. The boy stumbled but didn’t look back, diving into the surf and swimming away as fast as he could. Virgil roared after him, spurring him onward.

When he was out of sight, Virgil sighed. He seemed to shrink in on himself as he ducked his head and let his body collapse on the beach. The sun’s warmth didn’t soothe him in the slightest, a heavy feeling preventing him from enjoying it as he usually did.

A pang struck his chest and Virgil recognized it as his old enemy. One older and more dangerous than Deceit. Loneliness. 

_ “I thought you were over this, Verge,” _ Virgil mumbled to himself as he got up and slunk back toward his cave. He shook his head, scolding himself.  _ “You know better than to get attached. It was one human. This changes nothing. It’s better this way.” _


	3. Strings and Sealing Wax

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little Jackie Paper loved that rascal puff. He brought him strings and sealing wax and other fancy stuff. Together they would travel on a boat with billowed sail.

Years passed and Virgil was able to forget the human and resume his relaxed life. Ever tranquil, the island quickly soothed the pains in his heart and his days were once again filled with naps on the beach and tampering in the mystic arts. Virgil still mourned the loss of human hands to properly crack open books and scribble down his thoughts but as more and more time passed, he learned to forget that as well.

At least until a barrel appeared at his cave’s entrance. 

Virgil had been distracted most of the day, toying with a new fire spell, and hadn’t noticed it. But when the sun began sinking, he decided it was time to call it quits and he realized how sore he was from working for so long. He was heading out for a night flight when he noticed the barrel.

It was damp, clearly having some from the ocean, but the cave was too far from the shore for it to have washed up on its own. Virgil leaned his head down but he didn’t need to sniff it to know that a human brought it. No, the footprints in the sand were enough to tell him that much.

Virgil lashed his tail, eyes narrowing. He’d been discovered? Again? The humans were- Wait. There was only one set of footprints. And the human had only left the barrel? How peculiar. Surely the human had seen him. Was the human not frightened? There was no fear scent in the air and the retreating footprints looked as calm as the arriving ones. That wasn’t right.

Virgil lifted a massive paw and tore the barrel open with a lone claw. He flinched back and shut his eyes, expecting some kind of net or spell to come flying out. When nothing happened, he hesitantly opened them again and craned his neck down to see the contents of the barrel. It looked like it was filled with… string? And sealing wax? Oh, and normal wax. Were those candles? And sand dollars? Was that a vial of ink? It’d been so long since he’d had something proper to write wi-

Nope. He was getting distracted. While all this stuff was nice, he had more pressing matters to worry about. Like the human on his island.

Still… This stuff was nice. And useful. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was to do with sealing wax and sand dollars but he was a sorcerer. He’d find something. Surely a spell or ritual or potion would call for it some day or another. This just saved him the trouble of having to look for it.

Virgil pawed his face, trying to shake his thoughts away. Nope, nope. Even if he was keeping the stuff, he couldn’t get distracted by it. He had a human to find.

Virgil deposited the goods in his lair and slunk out into the night, following the footprints in the sand. He let out a long breath as he padded across the beach. He couldn’t tell if he was calm or anxious. The crisp night air was soothing but he could feel his heart pounding in his chest and his muscles tense with anxiety. This was not how he thought he would spend his night.

In the distance, he could see smoke but it rose in a thin stream, contained. A campfire likely. The human was camping in the forest bordering the beach. Virgil let out a sigh. He didn’t like venturing into the forest. His wings seemed to catch on every branch. He couldn’t get hurt that easily but it was annoying. He would prefer to avoid it but he couldn’t afford to. Not with an intruder threatening his livelihood. 

Virgil ambled into the forest, tucking his wings against his back to prevent them from catching. He had a pretty good idea where the human could be camping. There were only so many good clearings in the forest. The human was bound to be in one of them. The smell of smoke and human up ahead told him he was right.

Virgil stuck his head through some brush and into a clearing. Immediately, a flickering light filled his vision and the glade came into view. Fire in the center and makeshift bed at the edge, it wasn’t the best place to hunker down but it looked decent enough. Virgil had camped out more than his fair share back in his wandering human days and the sight of the camp made nostalgia bubble up in his belly. But the camp wasn’t what he was interested in.

A shirtless human sat by the fire, turned away from Virgil. He looked young though not as young as the last human. Maybe a few years older. Actually, come to think of it, a few years had passed since that day. The boy he saw all those years ago was… Wait. What if this was the same human?

Virgil’s eyes narrowed, inspecting the human while he was still oblivious to his presence. The human’s shirt was tossed aside by the fire, torn and damp. Shallow cuts littered his upper body. Virgil frowned. Swimming with those couldn’t have been pleasant. And wasn’t he cold without his shirt? At least now Virgil could get an idea of how old he was. Judging by his build, it looked like he was done maturing but he still looked quite young. He was maybe in his late teenage years or younger adult years.

The human had a strong build and fair skin to match his mop of brown hair. A native to the mainland, his mind told him. One of decent upbringing, that he was sure of. Just like the last one. This couldn’t possibly be the same human, could it? But that was the only logical conclusion. The human knew where he was and didn’t attack. It had to be the same one.

Virgil blew air out through his nose, hitting the human’s back to get his attention. The boy let out a surprisingly unmanly screech and whipped around, stumbling back. Before he knew what he was doing, Virgil’s paw slammed down on the fire just before the human fell into it. He made a sound of surprise as Virgil’s eyes widened in shock. He hadn’t meant to do that. His body just moved on its own.

Bare skin met scales and Virgil nearly flinched. It’d been so long since he’d come into contact with another human and he suddenly realized how touch starved he was. He craved a touch on the arm or even a mere handshake. He’d kill for a hug. He knew he couldn’t have what he wanted but just the brief touch was enough to make his insides spark.

The boy looked up at Virgil with wide eyes. For a moment, Virgil thought he was going to scream but he broke into a smile. “Hello. My name is Roman.”

Roman. Fitting, somehow. Virgil merely blinked, craning his neck down to get a better look at the human. He stretched his wings up, happy to have room to do so in the clearing. Roman leaned back a bit, seeming to finally notice that Virgil was cornering him, but there was very little fear in his eyes.

“Did you like your gift?” Roman asked. Virgil recoiled slightly and tilted his head as Roman went on. “I know it’s not much but after last time… I thought a peace offering was due.”

Ah. So this was the same boy. That still didn’t explain what he was doing here.

“I… I needed somewhere to go. A place to stay,” Roman explained quietly. His gaze wavered but he didn’t look down or turn his head. “I always swam on the coast as a kid- that’s how I ended up here last time- so I knew I had to go to the ocean. I mean, duh Roman. You needed to get away from the mainland, of course you’d go to the ocean… Anyway, out of all the islands, I knew I had to come to yours. I can’t… I can’t go to the others. If you’ll have me…”

Roman trailed off and Virgil remained silent. Confusion prickled in his mind. What did he mean he had to get away from the mainland? Was landsick? Or afraid? That was more likely. Was he fleeing? Was someone after him? Or worse, was there war? Was he a refuge? He was injured but not badly so probably not. Still, something clearly happened.

Violet eyes met brown. One pair dark and cynical, the other bright and hopeful. Virgil’s gaze held strong but he could feel his resolution waning. This human, this boy, this  _ Roman _ … Those eyes were sparking those old feelings of loneliness right back into his heart.

Virgil let out a long sigh.  _ “Fine…” _

Roman didn’t move. Virgil rolled his eyes and lowered his head, opening his maw. Roman tried to back up but Virgil snatched him up him in his teeth before he could move.

“Don’t eat me!”

_ “I’m not eating anyone, you idiot,” _ Virgil huffed, shifting Roman in his mouth so he didn’t accidentally scrape him with his teeth.  _ “Come on, we’re going back to my cave. I’m not letting you freeze out in the forest.” _

Despite not understanding his growls, Roman seemed to get the idea that Virgil wasn’t trying to hurt him. He got to his feet-  _ No, his shoes did not hurt his tongue, thank you _ \- and clambered out of his mouth. Virgil huffed in annoyance as the human awkwardly climbed over his face. He was a big creature but he wasn’t  _ that _ big. Roman was a mouthful and he didn’t appreciate him smearing his own saliva across his face with his feet.

Eventually, after displaying a remarkable amount of physical strength, Roman maneuvered onto Virgil’s shoulders. Virgil had to admit this was a bit better, though he did not like being ridden like an animal. At least he didn’t have dirty human taste in his mouth. Roman was still salty from the ocean. He’d have to take him to the waterfall more inland soon to wash it off. All that salt couldn’t be good for his skin.

Virgil grabbed Roman’s things with his teeth and aimlessly tossed it over his shoulder, hoping Roman could catch them, and began the trek back toward his cave. Tucking his wings back in and ducking his head, he slunk back into the trees in direction of the beach.

“Hey, what should I call you?” Roman asked as the pair broke the treeline. You know my name and if we’re going to be friends, I can’t just call you dragon. What should I call you?”

Virgil stepped onto the sand and huffed in annoyance.  _ “Don’t you think I would’ve told you my name if you could understand me?” _

To his further annoyance, Roman chuckled. “Come on, tell me. Ooh, let me guess. I bet it’s something sinister like Nightmare or Twilight. Gotta fit this dark aesthetic of yours, doesn’t it?”

Virgil glanced over his shoulder and shot him the most dull glare he could muster.

“Okay, not that. Hey, can you write? You're a dragon witch, right? Can you write your name in the sand?”

Virgil responded with a throaty growl. No way was he telling this idiot his name if he kept calling him a witch. He wasn’t a witch! He was a proud sorcerer! A warlock! Not some measly witch. 

“You’re not all that scary. Maybe you have a softer name? Like… I dunno… Fluffy? Or Cuddles? Ooh, I bet it’s cuddles!”

Virgil huffed and rolled his eyes. Was this human for real?

“You sure do huff a lot,” Roman mused. He snapped his fingers and grinned. “Huff? Can I call you Huff?”

Virgil glared and blew a ring of smoke into his face. Roman coughed for a few seconds before beaming like the solution hit him and laughed. “Huff? More like Puff!”

_ “Don’t you dare call me that,” _ Virgil growled but Roman didn’t seem to notice or care. If anything, it excited him more.

“Puff it is then. Puff the Magic Dragon!”

Virgil sighed.  _ “I suppose that’s better than Nightmare the Dragon Witch. Fine. You can call me… Ugh. I don’t want to say it.” _

Roman smiled, looking proud of himself, and patted Virgil’s neck. “I have a feeling we’ll be good friends, Puff.”

Little did Virgil know, Roman was right.

Years passed and Virgil’s life was filled with something he didn’t know he was missing. His heart longed for it, his soul screamed for it, and he finally found it.

Companionship. Sure, he was a dragon and Roman was a human but he had a friend and that made life worth living. Sunning and practicing spells seemed so meaningless, so trivial, without someone at his side.

Maybe Deceit was a companion once, Virgil didn’t know. Those memories faded when he was human and he didn’t miss them. Roman was so much more than Deceit ever was to him. Deceit was a rival and a constant but Roman radiated sunshine. He had an aura of honesty and genuinity. Virgil loved that. And he was  _ fun _ .

Virgil lived on the island for decades and never explored it much but Roman seemed to love the prospect of adventure enough that Virgil was willing to give up a day on the beach to wander after him deep into the island.

They found waterfalls and cave systems. They chased deer and hogs. They climbed massive oaks and towering cliffs. They spooked bats from caves and birds from branches. They dived off rocks into the sea and into pools. They made up games and songs. They’d sun and nap and play and it was all so… so fun. Meaningless in the most meaningful way. Virgil couldn’t explain it.

They were friends. The best of friends. Closer than kin. Virgil wouldn’t trade Roman for the world.

A fate worse than death. Virgil snorted. This was hardly a fate worse than death. He was living his best life.

But they both watched the horizon and a new longing sprouted in Virgil’s heart.

Roman would leave sometimes. It was never for long and he’d always come back but it scared Virgil nonetheless. Roman sensed his unease and promised that he’d never leave him but his words did little to soothe Virgil’s anxieties.

One day he caught him building a boat.

_ “What’s this?” _ Virgil asked, padding onto a distant part of the beach he rarely ventured. Roman whipped around at the sound of him, emotions Virgil couldn’t read crashing onto his face. Surprise? Clearly? Shame? Guilt? Maybe. He couldn’t tell. Either way, it hurt his heart.  _ “Are you leaving?” _

“Puff!” Roman greeted, bouncing to his feet in a manner that did not match Virgil’s tone. Virgil began to feel a bit better. It didn’t  _ sound _ like Roman wanted to leave him.

Roman walked over to his friend, grabbing his arm as if he were guiding him. Virgil found it amusing but he didn’t mind and let himself be led over to whatever Roman was working on. He tilted his head like a canine, curious. Roman was clearly working on a boat, he knew that much, but it didn’t look like Roman knew what he was doing.

“I wanted this to be a surprise,” Roman began, gesturing to the unfinished frame, “but I knew you’d find it eventually. It’s hard to hide things from you.”

_ “What are you doing?” _ Virgil asked, poking a piece of wood with his nose.

“I love it here,” Roman said wistfully and Virgil’s head began thundering in his chest. He was sensing a but coming. Was Roman going to leave him? By the stars, he was probably going to leave him. Roman deserved so much better than a life of solitude with nothing but a dragon for company. He deserved real friends he could talk to. He deserved a real home, perhaps a wife and children. He-

Roman seemed to notice his distress and put a hand on his jaw, running it over his scales. “Hey, hey. Calm down. You seem stressed, Puff. You doing okay there?”

_ “I’m fine,” _ Virgil responded. He was being silly, wasn’t he? Roman always said he’d never leave and Roman was a man of his word. He knew that much.

“This place is home but sometimes a couple of birds gotta leave the nest,” Roman went on, turning his attention back to the scrap wood. “I thought I’d try to build a boat, big enough for the two of us so we could adventure without you having to fly everywhere. It’s kind of ridiculous, I know, but-”

That was all Virgil needed to hear. The island was home but Roman was restless and Virgil found his own muscles aching for adventure. A boat, that sounded nice. And manageable. It’d been awhile but he was sure he could.

Breathing deeply, Virgil felt his magic swell in his belly. Closing his eyes briefly, he pictures the beautiful wooden form of a ship in his mind. How the wind would catch the sails and the hull would rock in the waves… The magic sparked with excitement and imagination. It could be real.

“Don’t torch it!” Roman yelped as a long stream escaped Virgil’s breath but it wasn’t fire. No, the stream was ablaze with purple power, dancing through the air and spreading over the open sand and water.

Wood materialized out of thin air and began forming into a hull. It stretched forward, forming a stern, and reached high to construct poles for a sail. Cabins appeared on the body and the deck filled out. Designs etched themselves over the surface of the sides and nets found homes on the railings.

Within seconds, a massive boat was sitting halfway between the beach and the water. A sun beam came down, striking the ship just right to bask Roman in all its glory.

“You mean you could’ve done that the whole time?”

Virgil smirked.  _ “Ready for an adventure, Princey?” _


	4. Pirates and Nobles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackie kept a lookout perched on puff's gigantic tail. Noble kings and princes would bow whene'er they came. Pirate ships would lower their flag when Puff roared out his name.

A powerful roar sliced through the air, echoing across the sea and deep onto the mainland as a ship pulled up on shore. Civillains gathred, whispering in fear and curiosity, as a dragon stepped off the ship and lowered his tail to let a tall man hop off.

“My name is Roman,” the man announced, “and my dear companion here is Puff. We would like to hand these pirates over to your land’s local authorities.”

Virgil reached back to the boat and grabbed a trio of men off the deck in his teeth. They made noises of distress and struggled against their rope bindings but Virgil paid their protests no mind and tossed them onto the port.

The crowd skittered back and began muttering amongst themselves in hushed tones. Roman glanced up at Virgil with question in his gaze. Virgil shrugged and looked back to the crowd, silently hoping someone would hurry up and do something. Dragon or not, he was still an anxious being at heart and all this staring was making him uncomfortable. 

One of the pirates, managed to wrestle his gag off his mouth. “Help! Maniacs, these ones. This man and his  _ dragon _ attacked me and my men out of nowhere! Simple merchants, I tell you. Completely unprovoked-”

“Silence,” a voice snapped and the crowd went silent. They began shuffling, parting ways to reveal a well dressed man approaching with an escort of knights. Virgil cast Roman a confused look only to realize that Roman had taken a knee and was bowing to the newcomer.

“King Remington of Ypnos,” Roman murmured, lowering his head. “It is an honor.”

Virgil stared at the newcomer incredulously. This man was a king? He supposed that made sense with his royal robes and guard of knights and- Should he be bowing? He should probably be bowing. Being a dragon didn’t excuse social status. He was still a commoner and there was a  _ king _ standing before him. What in the world was he doing down here at the port? That didn’t seem right. Had he seen the fighting in the distance and gotten curious? That couldn’t be it. Kings usually had a pretty good sense of self preservation.

Virgil started to lower his head when the king waved him off. “Stop that, gurls. And call me Remy.”

“Remy…?”

“Perfect,” Remy said, clapping his hands. “So what have you gurls got for me?”

Roman shook his head, regaining his composure, and gestured to the trio of pirates. “We were sailing and our ship became under attack. We found plans to raid this port in their cabins.”

“Trifield through me things!” one of the pirates complained.

“Stole me birds!” another shouted.

Remy looked up at Virgil, eyebrow cocked. Virgil suddenly became very aware of the three parrots that took up residence on the scales on his brow. How hadn’t he noticed them before? He huffed indignantly and tried to shake them off to no avail.

Remy shifted his gaze to the man standing beside him. Far less well dressed but still fairly regal in appearance, Virgil assumed he was some kind of advisor of sorts. “Emile, you recognize these pirates?”

Emile adjusted his glasses and nodded. “That’s Logan Tacher and his crew Nate Lent and Toby Frayer. They’re wanted in many lands. I think they have one of the highest bounties in the Land of Papel.”

“Papel?” Remy questioned. “Too bad you can’t cash them out. Unless you want to wrestle them off to some other land to collect some bounty change, my knights will toss them in the dungeons.”

“Wait,” Roman started. Virgil shot him a look. Was he really going to make a fuss over bounties? Roman caught his look and waved him off. “Not that! I don’t care about some pirates. What’s going on with Papel?”

“You haven’t heard?” Emile asked, sounding surprised.

“Heard what?”

“About the war?”

“War?” Roman practically screeched. 

_ “What war? Where?” _ Virgil demanded. His island was near Papel! If it became a military base… By the stars, they wouldn’t know what hit them. Hell hath no fury like a dragon angered and all that. He’d torch the place if a single soldier set a foot on his beach.

The birds sitting in his head seemed to sense his shift in mood but they didn’t fly away. They bounced around a bit, chirping nervously.

“King Romulus was overthrown,” Remy explained. “The new king has waged war on Papel’s neighbors… What was it again Emile?”

“Honhalee,” Emile answered and Virgil glowered.

The birds hopped off his head, deciding Roman’s shoulders were safer, while the bystanders backed up, murmuring fearfully. Roman put a hand on his flank and Virgil suddenly realized he was snarling. He closed his eyes for a moment, cutting off the stream of purple magic undoubtedly flowing from them, and sat down.  _ “Sorry.” _

“Don’t worry, old friend,” Roman said quietly and turned back to Remy and Emile. “What is the situation?”

The two looked surprised. “Why do you care?”

“Papel is my homeland. And I met Puff on the Honahlee-Papel border,” Roman explained before glancing up at the dragon. “You’re from Honahlee, right?”

Virgil nodded. He wasn’t sure if that was the land he originally hailed from but that’s where he spent his last human years wandering in his vendetta against Deceit. It was a beautiful land, rich with magic, and surprisingly welcoming to even a man as intimidating as Virgil once was. He didn’t know much about Papel but he knew he didn’t want anything to happen to Honahlee.

Emile cleared his throat. “Honahlee’s been on the defensive for months. We’re too far to send troops but we’ve been sending supplies and arms to aid them. Papel’s new king seems war thirsty. We fear once Honahlee falls, Ypnos is next.”

Roman and Virgil’s eyes met, words silently passing between them. When they looked back at the other pair, Roman’s eyes were steeled with something Virgil couldn’t place. “How far to the border?”

“Excuse me?”

“I am a warrior and my friend here is rather powerful. It would be wrong of us to ignore such a conflict when we can do something to help.”

Emile shifted on his feet but Remy broke into a grin. With a sweeping gesture, he dipped his head. “Then I salute you for your bravery. It takes about two weeks to reach the border by ship but by dragon back…”

Roman smiled up at Virgil. “What do you say, Puff? You up for a flight?”

Virgil nodded and threw his head back to roar.  _ “You know it! _ ”

Roman laughed. “That’s the spirit!”

Virgil roared and Roman mounted his back, asking Emile and Remy to keep an eye on their ship. Virgil couldn’t take to the skies fast enough. It’d been a long time since he’d soared like this. 

Virgil and Roman’s adventures were fun but directionless. They traveled to many distant lands, loitering along the coasts of some and venturing deep inland on others. Battles, visits to castles, long quests, exploring, it was all so fun. With Roman at his side, Virgil could be happy.

But that didn’t mean his soul was settled.

He didn’t understand the yearning in his blood. As a human and the first several decades as a dragon, he’d searched for belonging and purpose. He’d found it but still, his heart was agitated. Roman was his life now and Roman was happy but he often found himself hoping Roman would find a purpose of his own. Sure, adventuring was fun but their wandering was aimless. 

Virgil couldn’t explain it. He was happy beyond belief to have Roman and he’d fully accepted his duty to be a good friend but he was still restless and he hated it. He should be content- he was content- but his heart was telling him something waited in their future. His paws itched to chase after it.

Needless to say, it was invigorating for the two of them to have a destination in mind once more.

The flight was brief. A few breaks were taken- Virgil was happy to say his island was free of violence- and they arrived at the Papel-Honahlee border within a few days. The sight was not a pleasant one.

The battle took place on open water, the sea churring angrily around the opposing fleets. It looked like Papel was on the offensive with its massive warships and canons. Honahlee, on the other hand, was on its last legs. The ships were tiny compared to Papel’s. It was clear they weren’t prepared to be attacked.

Or maybe they were. Emile and Remy had said they’d been fighting for some time. Maybe this was all that was left of the navy. Virgil hoped that was the case. Even if Papel broke the blockade, they’d still have to invade the mainland by foot. Hopefully Honahlee had the defenses to survive. 

Papel’s military was brutal. Canons plowed into Honhalee’s ships and archers with flaming arrows set them ablaze. Air filled with gunpowder and the noise of explosions, Virgil barely knew when the enemy ended and the allies began. Did he even have allies? He was a dragon for crying out loud. He knew that he and Roman wanted to side with the defense but they didn’t know that. Would they think he was allied with Papel’s new king? Would they try to shoot him down? He knew he could take canonfire but with Roman on his back…

“I think I see the royal mothership,” Roman called and Virgil thrashed his head, trying to find it. They were still above the battle itself but he couldn’t- Oh there it was. It was fairly obvious. How had he missed it? It was the largest, most heavily armed ship on the sea. Virgil felt Roman’s muscles tense in anticipation. “Shall we Puff?”

Virgil roared and dived down, plummeting toward the ship only to catch himself the last moment to land neatly on the deck. Thankfully it was big enough for him to stand on. Almost like it was designed to hold a dragon.

“Show yourself, king,” Roman spat, sliding off Virgil’s back. He drew his sword but didn’t have time to unsheath it before a round of canonfire went off, blanketing the deck in white powder. Roman coughed and Virgil shook his head, trying to keep the powder from getting in his eyes to no avail.

Virgil squinted against the powder and suddenly saw the silhouettes of two forms stalking through the powder with a predatory aura. Or rather, one of the forms did. The other was long, serpentine almost, and reached high over the bridge. Arching and twisting, the shadowy silhouette looked almost like-

“It’s about time,” Roman said. Virgil looked down at him and realized it wasn’t his friend who was talking. No, Roman’s lips were pursed shut and his body was too rigid with fear to speak so boldly. The voice sounded so similar though…

Virgil reared back and flapped his leathery wings, blowing away the cloud and revealing the two forms in all their glory.

“It’s good to see you again, dearest brother,” the human form said, grinning wildly. Roman glared and said something in response but Virgil wasn’t paying attention. If he’d been in the right of mind, he’d be struck by how similar the two looked. If he’d been in the right of mind, he’d be gaping and glancing between the two. If he’d been in the right of mind, he’d be pouring over their faces and comparing the tiniest of details.

But he wasn’t in the right of mind. He couldn’t be. Not when he was face to face with a very familiar pair of yellow eyes.

_ “Hello, old friend,” _ the serpent chuckled, winding to drag his body onto the deck behind Roman’s lookalike threateningly. Sharp claws connected to long, thin legs hit the wood and the serpent coiled around the human, glaring gaze never leaving Virgil’s form.

His eyes were streaming with golden magic.

_ “Deceit,”  _ Virgil spat, glowering. Part of it was anger but he could feel a pit of jealousy in his belly. Deceit was an Eastern Dragon? Lucky bastard. What Virgil wouldn’t give for the longer, leaner body of a serpentine dragon. They were so much more attuned to magic and they could fly so gracefully even without wings. They were so  _ interesting _ compared to dull, Western Dragons like Virgil.

Still… How ironic was this scene? Cursing his foe with a dragonic form was Deceit’s idea of a fate worse than death but now Deceit was trapped in a dragon’s body as well? That was a laugh and a half.

_ “A deal with the underworld gone wrong?” _ Virgil sneered, taking a step forward threateningly. He was a large creature, bulkier than Deceit. Not accounting for their magic, Virgil was confident he could take him on.

_ “Not quite,” _ Deceit growled in response but didn’t go on.

Virgil snorted.  _ “Fine. Keep your secrets. I only find it enthralling that you’d curse me with a fate worse than death only to cast the same spell on yourself. Spoiler, it’s not that bad.” _

Deceit rolled his eyes and something in Virgil’s stomach twinged.  _ “I see you’ve met the other Prince of Papel. The twins have a striking resemblance, do they not? At first glance, that is. Roman’s got as much of a bleeding heart as you but Remus… Oh Remus. He’s a man who takes after my brand of-” _

_ “Save it, Deceit,” _ Virgil snarled. Vaguely, he was aware of Roman and Remus shouting at each other but their words fell on deaf ears. Virgil could only hear Deceit now.  _ “What does this have to do with anything?” _

Something as wild as Remus’s grin flashed in Deceit’s eyes.  _ “Why, your fate still awaits you, does it not? But fate be damned if I don’t tear you apart first!” _

Virgil barely had time to react. The moment Roman ran from his side, sword drawn and brother in his sights, Deceit lunged. Teeth gnashed, claws gleamed, and the fight was on.


	5. Other Toys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dragon lives forever but not so little boys. Painted wings and giant rings make way for other toys.

The battle was long and hard.

Claws tore through scales, blood splattered into the salty sea, spells flew through the air, and magic clashed overhead. A battle between an Eastern Dragon and a Western Dragon was a sight to behold, a battle between two sorcerers was even more so. Truly, this was a battle to go down in history.

In the end, it was Virgil who came out on top. Deceit had the advantedge with his long, winding serpentine form but his limbs were too thin to do any real damage. Virgil had wings and four sturdy legs with long claws, not to mention his neck muscles allowed him to put more power into his bite. If they were fighting with solely magic, Deceit was superior but it seemed Deceit’s own spells were his end. Physically, he just couldn’t stand against Virgil anymore.

His body wasn’t completely useless though. Once defeat became clearly imminent, Deceit slipped under the waves and swam deep into the sea where Virgil couldn’t follow him. Virgil glowered and roared as he watched the shadow under the surface slink away but it didn’t matter. Defeating Deceit was no longer his purpose in life. Serving Roman was.

Virgil landed heavily on the mothership’s deck, heart in his throat. Roman dueled with Remus while he was fighting Deceit but Virgil hadn’t been able to watch it. He could see one figure standing over the other but not their faces. Which was Roman and which was Remus? He couldn’t tell like this. Was Roman okay?

Virgil couldn’t hide his sigh of relief when the standing figure looked over his shoulder, sending him a brilliant grin. “Hey there Puff!”

Virgil snorted. Leave it to Roman to treat defeating a king like just another of his many adventures. A king… Remus was Roman’s brother. Did that make Roman a prince? The irony of the nickname Princey suddenly hit him. Was he the Kingdom of Papel’s rightful heir? Was he king now that Remus had been defeated?

Virgil pushed the thoughts down and lumbered forward to rest his snout on Roman’s shoulder. Roman smiled and ran his hands over the scales on his jaw. “Are you okay Puff? That snake looked nasty.”

Virgil snorted.  _ “He was. I think I’m okay though.” _

“Deceit,” Remus murmured, trying to push himself to his knees. His brown eyes searched the surface of the water, almost like he was lost. Virgil felt a stab of sympathy but pushed it down. Remus was in the wrong here. He couldn’t feel bad for him.

But part of him wondered what Deceit and Remus were. Part of him wondered if Remus was Deceit’s Roman to Virgil’s… uh, Puff. Did they have the same bond? All those years ago, he’d worried what Deceit would do with his longtime foe gone. Had he found a purpose in this human, like Virgil had with Roman? He knew Deceit wasn’t evil. He wasn’t heartless. He wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.

But Remus had waged war. Virgil didn’t care about the details. He just knew it was time to end this.

Roman checked Remus’s ropes one last time, making sure he was bound, before tossing him onto Virgil’s back. Not a moment later, Roman swung a leg over his shoulder and mounted him. “To the mainland!”

Virgil roared and flapped his mighty wings, launching himself into the sky. Flying over the ships below, he sensed confusion on the battlefield. Papel’s navy’s chain of command was broken and their greatest weapon was defeated. Honahlee had the upper hand. The battle was over. No, the war was over.

He landed on the mainland heavily and Roman slid off his back. Troops hurried to face them but Roman stepped in front of Virgil and threw Remus on the ground in front of him. “Ceasefire! I, Prince Roman of Papel, have defeated King Remus of Papel and would like to call for peace!”

Even though he heard it before, it was still shocking to hear that his Roman was a prince. To Virgil, Roman was just a kid with his head in the clouds. In reality, he was an adult capable of anything he put his mind to. He was a warrior. He was a prince. And now, maybe, a king depending on how the politics played out.

By the gods, he did not want Roman to become king.

Before he could get caught up in his thoughts, Virgil and Roman were swept up by knights and with a blink of an eye, they were standing in the castle before a pair of regal figures.

“Take King Remus away to the dungeons,” a tall man dressed in royal robes called as he descended the stairs leading away from his throne to stand by the prince and dragon below. 

A younger man walked beside him but he lacked the same mature air and stiff way the other held himself. Grinning with all the sunshine in the world, he bounced down the stairs and offered a hand to Roman. “Hi there! I’m Prince Patton Honahlee but you can call me Patton! It’s nice to meet you!”

Virgil swore could hear the exclamation points after each sentence.

Roman smiled graciously and took his head. He shook it before turning Patton’s hand and bowing theatrically to kiss it. “It’s a pleasure, Patton. I’m Roman.”

Virgil mock gagged before poking Roman with his tail. The young man let go of Patton’s hand and coughed awkwardly. 

“And this is my companion Puff. Puff the Magic Dragon.”

“A sorcerer,” the man spoke, approaching Virgil. To his surprise, the regal man bowed. “My deepest respects to you, my friend. Our kind is rare these days. I didn’t think I would ever see one in Honahlee again. Please, call me Thomas.”

“He’s the king,” Patton added helpfully.

Virgil blinked in surprise.  _ “I didn’t think I’d see another sorcerer here either. Nor did I expect a king to bow to me.” _

Thomas chuckled wholeheartedly. “Indeed! Honahlee isn’t quite like other lands.”

Roman gaped. “Wait, you can understand him?”

“There is no dragon tongue that dragons communicate with. They speak with roars from the heart. If you’re attuned to their magic and open yourself to their voices, listening isn’t a challenge in the slightest. Now, tell me Puff, what is it that you seek? I hear dragons love their gold. How may I show my kingdom’s gratitude for your aid?”

_ “Safety,” _ Virgil murmured. He glanced at Roman.  _ “And happiness for my friend.” _

Thomas smiled. “That can be arranged.” __

Virgil raised a brow.  _ “Can it?” _

Thomas smiled and tilted his head in Roman and Patton’s direction. Virgil suddenly realized the two weren’t listening to him or Thomas, caught up in chattering with each other.

_ “Oh.” _

“Prince Roman-”

“Just Roman is fine. I haven’t been a prince in nearly a decade.”

A decade? Has it really been that long?

“Roman,” Thomas corrected. “I’ll arrange a room for your stay. I assume you’d like a say in what happens to your country?”

“Like I said, I haven’t been a prince in nearly a decade,” Roman repeated. “It’s not my country. Honahlee defeated Papel in war. Unless there are other nations involved who have an equal or greater claim, it’s yours.”

Thomas didn’t seem to care about the acquisition of land. “Either way, I would like you to stay. It seems you could use a place to rest.”

Roman started to nod then broke off and looked at Virgil. “And Puff? Will he be alright? Hunters have hounded him in the past.”

Thomas waved him off. “As you’ll see, Honahlee is very accepting of magic. But, if he’d like, I know of a secluded part of the coast he can roost in while you two stay here.”

Roman nodded gratefully. “Thank you.”

“Come on!” Patton said suddenly, taking Roman’s hand. “I’ll show you around!”

Roman smiled and let himself be dragged down the hall, leaving Thomas and Virgil standing in the throne room.

_ “Your son is…” _

“He has a lot of energy, I know,” Thomas chuckled. “He loves people so please excuse him. I’m sure he didn’t mean to steal your friend.”

_ “No, that’s not- Thank you for your hospitality, Thomas. Can you show me to the place you had in mind?” _

Thomas agreed and showed Virgil to a secluded cove on the coast not unlike his island home. A steep cliff separated him from civilization and there was a deep cave embedded into the stone for him to nest in. The beach intrigued him almost immediately and he settled down in the sand for a sunning session. Thomas laughed at the sight of it but had to leave. He was a king after all. A king who just won a war. He had a lot on his hands at the moment. Virgil was interested in his sorcery and longed to have someone who he could talk to but he made no attempt to get the king to stay.

Virgil sunned for hours, alone save the blizzard of thoughts in his mind. His anxiety was acting up, making his muscles tense. He didn’t know why. If anything, he should be relaxed. He was still riding the defeat of Deceit and he was back in Honahlee. He was safe. Roman was safe. He should be happy but…

The face faced with uncertainty. The future was uncertain. He didn’t know what the future held. And that was scaring him.

He didn’t know where Roman was either. Roman was his constant. Without him at his side, his mind was spiraling and he didn’t know what to do. He was uneasy and he had no idea why. He had no reason for it.

Like he often was, Virgil was wrong.

The sun had long since set by the time Roman returned to him. He looked tired and still worn from battle but he was smiling. That was all Virgil needed to see to sit up straight and let all his worries roll away.

“Hey Puff,” Roman greeted, leaning against Virgil’s chest and reaching up to run his fingers over the scales on Virgil’s jaw.

_ “Hey,” _ Virgil responded, voice coming out as a soft growl. He closed his eyes, his tiredness catching up with him, but apparently Roman wasn’t ready to tucker down for the night.

“So… Apparently I’m the King of Papel.”

Virgil jerked his head up with a start.  _ “What?” _

Roman laughed and patted him. “Don’t worry, Puff. I handed the power over to King Thomas. He seems like a great guy and I don’t know a thing about being a king.”

Virgil relaxed and put his head down on his paws. Roman threw an arm around him and scratched him like a dog. It was a bit degrading but it felt nice and it was Roman so Virgil leaned into it, a happy rumble bubbling up in his throat.

“Papel is going to be folded into Honahlee,” Roman explained. “King Thomas has invited us to stay here if we want. He… He’s asked me to go with Patton to spread the word in Papel. I don’t know what’s going to happen to my brother and I’m the closest thing to Papel’s royalty so…”

Roman’s voice trailed off and Virgil realized what he was saying. He lifted his head to stare at him as hurt flooded his eyes.  _ “You’re leaving me?” _

“I’ll be back!” Roman assured quickly, getting to his feet. “You’re my best friend Puff. If I could take you with me, I would but you know Papel isn’t all that welcoming to, uh, magic and magical beings and stuff. It wouldn't be safe for you but Puff… Puff, I’ve gotta do this.”

Virgil let a low, comforting rumble escape his throat and leaned forward to nuzzle Roman. Roman let out a breath of relief and broke into a grin.

“So… You’re not upset?”

_ “I could never be upset with you.” _

Roman leaned against him and wrapped his arms around him. “Thanks Puff. I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

And Virgil believed him. Something deep within told him their adventuring days were over but Virgil pushed it down and clung to Roman’s every word like the only truth that mattered.


	6. Cease the Roar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One grey night it happened, Jackie Paper came no more. And puff that mighty dragon, he ceased his fearless roar.

It was a long time before Roman returned but waiting wasn’t horrible.

Okay, it was pretty bad. Virgil was uneasy without his ever-present friend at his side and it made his anxiety run wild. There were many days and nights when he was too restless to sun or sleep and instead paced around the beach aimlessly. He wasn’t alone though. The trio of birds from the pirate ship returned to him for whatever reason and they made decent companions. They were more pets than anything but Virgil appreciated their presence nonetheless. And what the birds couldn’t provide, King Thomas did.

Thomas wasn’t what Virgil thought of when he heard the word king but he only knew so many kings so perhaps his assumptions were wrong. Thomas was a jovial man and kind hearted deep down but he was sharp and intelligent when he wanted to be. A sorcerer had to be.

Thomas wasn’t at Virgil’s level in magic. No where close. Thomas hadn’t toyed with the thousand year immorality spell all mystic masters cast but he was still quite skilled and Virgil enjoyed having a conversational partner. Virgil retrieved his collection of books and artifacts from his old island and Thomas shared what he had from his personal library. Having proper resources once again at his clawtips was exciting beyond words.

Thomas found it amusing. Somehow, Thomas made Virgil feel like a child again. His heart was heavy without Roman at his side but Thomas and the birds brought some light into his life. 

They were fun and Virgil felt comfortable calling them his friends but they just didn’t compare to Roman.

It was probably a bit over a year when Roman came back. Virgil wasn’t really sure, he wasn’t very good at keeping track of time. All he knew was that one day he was companionless and the next Roman was at his side again.

_ “Roman!” _ Virgil bellowed, charging off the shore and taking to the air when a familiar ship came into sight on the horizon. He landed on it heavily before the ship knew what was coming.  _ “Is this our old ship? You stopped by Ypnos to pick it up again? I forgot about this thing. By the gods, I miss our old adventures in this old hunk of wood.” _

“Puff!” Roman cried, jumping off the bridge to run up to his friend. He laughed and threw his arms around the dragon to the best of his ability. “It’s so good to see you! I missed you buddy!”

_ “Not nearly as much as I missed you,” _ Virgil rumbled, nuzzling him with his snout. He looked up and waved with his tail.  _ “Hi Patton.” _

Patton waved back cheerfully. “Hi Puff! How have you been? Gosh, do we have some stories for you!”

_ “I’m looking forward to it.” _

Roman patted Virgil shoulder. “Why don’t you fly on back to your beach and I can come by once we’ve checked in with King Thomas?”

Virgil hesitated.  _ “But I just got you back!” _

Patton walked down the stairs to join the pair on the deck. “We just got back Roman. Go spend some time with your friend. I can talk to Dad.”

“Really?” Roman looked relieved. Patton nodded and Roman broke into a grin. “Thanks Pat! What do you say, Puff?”

Virgil roared excitedly and ducked to let Roman climb onto his shoulders. Roman did so with ease and soon the two were back in the air.

Virgil took a bit more time on the flight than he had to. Joy and excitement flooded his wings and he couldn’t help but dance around in the sky a bit. If Roman’s happy whoops meant anything, he enjoyed it too.

Virgil’s little bird buddies flapped over once he touched down on the beach, crowding Roman. The prince laughed and patted each of them before placing them on Virgil’s shoulders and launching himself into the tale of his adventure. 

Most of their days were spent on the sea. Roman said it wasn’t that bad, the ship’s crew was good company, but Virgil and Roman had spent a long time on a boat in their adventuring days so Roman didn’t bore him with the details of day to day life. They stayed on the coast for the most part, stopping at every port to share the news. A number of village leaders invited them to celebratory dinners which was exciting and even more asked the crew for help with something or another. Roman found it quite fun, even if Patton wasn’t as used to those kinds of activities as Roman. Trekking through forests, helping with fishing sessions, warding off magical beasts preying on villagers, lending a hand with village chores, that kind of thing. Roman loved it and managed to rope the rest of the crew into such endeavors by the end of their tour around Papel.

They tasked the villages with spreading the word inland and they moved on to the neighboring nations. They were shot at a few times upon entering foreign borders but for the most part all the nations took the news well. A handful who had particularly nasty spats wanted revenge on the former king of Papel or wished to meet the new king but Roman and Patton handled it well and gave them instructions to meet with Thomas.

Remy and Emile had been happy to see Roman well and let him exchange the boat Virgil made for the crew’s current ship. A magic boat was far superior to even the royal cruiser they’d taken. Virgil was glad to have it back in his and Roman’s possession, even if they didn’t plan on sailing anytime soon.

Roman spouted off about more specific, more detailed adventures he had and Virgil noticed a common theme among them: Patton. Virgil liked Patton, he really did. Even though their first meeting was a bit strained, they hit it off well enough while the pair was preparing to leave and Virgil had gotten a handful of letters from Patton during his time away. It sounded like Roman had found someone to keep him company in his time away from Virgil. It sounded like he got along with the whole crew but Patton…

“I think I love him,” Roman whispered, leaning his back on Virgil’s shoulder.

…Nevermind. It was more than friendship. Honestly, he should have seen that coming.

_ “I didn’t take you as a man’s man,” _ Virgil responded, shifting a bit to settle down in the sand. He supposed it made sense. He and Roman had saved a number of maidens in their time and Roman never showed any interest in them, even the pretty ones. And his initial interactions with Patton had been kind of flirty… It wasn’t too much of a surprise really. Virgil was sure he’d have figured it out if he’d given it any thought in the past.

“Is that okay?” Roman asked quietly. He looked up at Virgil with scared eyes. Virgil whined as his heart melted. Roman was legitimately worried about what he thought.

_ “Of course that’s okay, Princey,” _ Virgil told him, nudging him playfully to assure him. Roman’s face immediately relaxed. 

“I should’ve known you’d be okay with it,” Roman sighed, letting out a long breath. “You don’t really care about social norms, do you?”

_ “Not really.”  _ Virgil waved his tail and put his head down on his paws. He couldn’t recall his preferences from when he was human and frankly he didn’t care. He wasn’t the romantic type.

“I don’t know how Patton feels though,” Roman went on, sitting down in the sand. “I want… I want to tell him how I feel but I’m scared I’ll ruin everything we have already.”

Virgil shouldered him, making him fall over with a yelp.  _ “If your friendship can be ruined that easily, it’s not one worth holding onto. And Patton’s not like that. Just go for it Princey.” _

“I get it,” Roman groaned, sitting up. He shook his head, shaking sand out of his hair, and shot Virgil an annoyed look. “You’re lucky I can’t understand you. If you could talk, I’d have words about your communication methods.”

Virgil smirked.  _ “Shoving gets the message across, doesn’t it?” _

Roman waved him off. “Do you really think Patton and I…?”

_ “Yes.” _

“I mean, he’s so amazing! He’s handsome and funny and he’s just so… Ugh! I can’t express how amazing he is! He is literally sunshine and starlight and moonbeams all rolled into one.”

_ “Well I’ve got news for you, Princey,” _ Virgil said, poking him with his snout.  _ “You’re pretty awesome yourself. I’m sure Patton can see it in you.” _

Roman let out a long breath and leaned against Virgil again. A couple of the birds sitting on Virgil’s back hopped down to sit on Roman’s head. He smiled softly and took one off to sit on his hand. “There’s just so much at stake. Patton is a prince and I’m no one.”

_ “Actually-” _

“Yes, I realized what I said wasn’t quite right after I said it but technically I’m right. Why would he want to settle for someone like me?”

Virgil sighed and rolled his eyes.  _ “You are a clueless moron, you know that right? I’m only going to say this once so pay attention.” _

Virgil lifted a paw and scratched at the ground, drawing a few lines with one of his sharp, white claws. Roman tilted his head and peered at it curiously.

“A… A heart? What’s that… Oh. You’re right Puff! I shouldn’t let all these stupid worries stop me! I’m not getting any younger. You only live once. You must chase love when you still have the chance! Thanks Puff! You have no idea how much you’ve helped. I’m going to go tell him!”

Virgil laughed as Roman scrambled to his feet and ran off toward the castle, waving at the dragon as he ran. He smiled fondly, happy to have his friend back.

Little did he know, that wasn’t quite the case.

For the next few weeks, Roman was constantly on the beach with Virgil. It was like old times, playing games and telling tales. But then weeks bled into months and Roman began showing up less and less. 

Virgil was happy for him. Anytime Roman came back, he apologized and told him of something or another he’d been doing with Patton. Turns out Patton returned his feelings and Thomas was supportive of their growing relationship. Virgil couldn’t be happier for them.

Daily visits became bi-weekly. Then weekly then monthly and one day Roman stopped showing up at all.

It was like Roman never came back. King Thomas still visited regularly and the birds still hung around but eventually even King Thomas stopped coming and Virgil didn’t know why.

The decline in visits was gradual and Virgil couldn’t help but become curious. Once he was certain Thomas wasn’t coming back, he decided to do something bold.

Shapeshifting was never Virgil’s strong suit. It was always more up Deceit’s ally and the spell was rather difficult without a voice but Virgil had been honing his magic all these years and he was fairly certain he could manage it. Maybe not a spell to revert himself back to his human form but maybe something familiar and somewhat similar to what he was now that could slip into the city. Something far less visible than a massive dragon.

He settled on one of his parrot friends. Casting the spell was hard but he was familiar enough with the birds to be able to shift into them without having to concentrate on the form as much as he would something like a dog or a boar. It took all his focus to cast the spell, he couldn’t afford to spare any.

He cast the shapeshifting spell at the high of noon but the sun’s warmth was a massive comfort. The last time he’d transformed, he’d done so in a storm and it was a rather traumatic experience he would not like to repeat. Thankfully, the spell went over smoothly. His body became fluid, melding into the smaller form rather than breaking and reforming like last time.

Two of his bird companions were dark, their feathers a mix of purples and greys. Virgil selected one of them, the one he called Ace, to shift into. Virgil was a dark creature, it just felt better being covered by grey feathers if he couldn’t have his black scales. The birds looked a bit unsettled by his transformation but they got over it quickly and were more than happy to follow him when he flew toward the city.

The first thing he noticed was that it was loud. There were more people out than there should be. And the streets seemed to be decorated? There were banners and flags up everywhere. Virgil couldn’t make sense of them but they made good perches. He and his friends stopped on a clothesline covered in small flags to watch the people below. A child offered him bread which he gladly accepted. Then he noticed the child’s face was tear stained. Inwardly, he frowned. That didn’t match the happy atmosphere. 

“It’s kind of you to share your sandwich with that bird,” a woman said as she walked over to collect the child. She took his hand and began leading him back toward the street. “Just like King Thomas.”

“Why are we celebrating?” the child asked, rubbing his face. “I don’t understand why everyone is so happy if King Thomas is dead.”

Virgil felt his heart stop in his chest. Thomas was dead?

“Oh sweetie,” the mother soothed, running her hand over her son’s face. Something in Virgil longed to have someone to comfort him like that but he shook the thought away. That was silly. He was hundreds of years old. He wasn’t a child. “We all miss the king but he wouldn’t want us to be sad. He would want us to be happy and support Prince Patton on his coronation day.”

“Doesn’t he have Roman? Does Roman not support him?”

“Of course Prince Roman supports him! The support of his husband is all he needs but it’s important for a king’s subjects to show their support too. That’s why we must smile today. To show Patton and Roman that we’ll stand by them when they rule our kingdom.”

Husband? Roman was married? And he didn’t tell him?

Virgil felt an overwhelming stab of hurt. Purple magic sparked from his feathers and he could feel himself losing grip on the shapeshifting spell but that was okay. He’d heard enough. He didn’t need to linger in the city any longer.

He flapped his wings hard and took off faster than he previously dared to fly. His parrot friends cawed after him but he didn’t slow, the purple energy crackling around him as his form began to change. In a manner of minutes, feathers became scales, his wings grew and regained their leathery film, talons became claws, limps grew back, his tail became pointed again, his face elongated into a snout, and the fire roared to life in his chest once more. When he landed on the beach, he was a dragon once more.

But he wasn’t Puff the Magic Dragon. No, that persona was long gone. Without Roman, he lost his sense of self. He had no purpose. Not anymore.

Virgil threw his head back and roared out to the sea. It was empty and hollow as the feelings storming in his heart but he kept it up until his throat became raw and he couldn’t roar anymore if he tried.


	7. Sorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His head was bent in sorrow, green scales fell like rain. Puff no longer went to play along the cherry lane.

Virgil used to love Honahlee.

The land was rich and brimming with magic. In his human days, he felt at peace wandering its lands. As a dragon, he’d learned about its people quite a bit. He never interacted with them much but he knew they were good people. Peace loving and fair, they were some of the best humans he knew of. The land was beautiful and Virgil had plenty of good memories attached to it.

Note the past tense.

Now, it felt like a prison. The body Virgil once loved felt like a shell and that shell was broken lying on that beach. Virgil didn’t know how long he lay there mourning something he’d lost long ago but eventually his birds’ worried chirps began eating away at his heart and he had to get out of there.

And so, Virgil returned to his island. His lovely, familiar island.

But it didn’t feel like home anymore.

His cave echoed of Roman. Each fishing hole had old memories attached to them. Every rock and tree reminded him of him. 

He couldn’t get away. He couldn’t forget.

And it hurt.

Virgil wondered where they went wrong. They were so close. For years, they were all they had. Was it just time? Distance? A combination of both? Virgil knew better than to blame Patton. Patton was wonderful and he made Roman happy. Roman could still be with Patton and visit Virgil. Thomas had. Thomas kept visiting after Roman stopped even though he had all his duties as king. Roman couldn’t possibly be that busy.

Had… Had he just forgotten him?

Virgil didn’t know how much time passed but the pain in his heart just kept getting worse and worse. Instead of dozing in the sun, he buried himself in the sand to hide from the world. Instead of hunting, he gnawed on tree bark and leaves to stave off his hunger. Instead of sleeping, he spent countless nights wallowing in his own grief and self-pity.

One day, he couldn’t take it anymore.

He picked up his books again.

A boy, a prince, a king, whatever Roman was, he could forget a dragon. But he couldn’t forget a friend.

Shapeshifting spells were tricky. Unlike transformation spells, they were temporary which made them easier and more difficult at the same time. If he had to describe it, a transformation was a spell of brute force. Bones were forced into new positions, breaking and cracking; skin and flesh was melted away, replaced by scales or fur depending on what the intended transformation was; muscles grew or condensed to fit the size of the creature. It was painful and permanent. Shapeshifting, on the other hand, was far more fluid. One’s physical form was molded and manipulated into something new yet still the same. The body remained the same fundamentally but the shape was different.

They required a great deal of magic and that magic had to be manipulated in the finest way lest a sorcerer shift himself into something grotesque and not at all what he intended. That’s why Virgil shifted himself into his bird friend the last time he’d been in Honahlee. He was familiar with his companion enough that he didn’t need to think about his form all that much while casting his spell.

This time, it was different. He couldn’t see or touch what he wanted to turn into. He was just relying on a memory. When he began the spell, fear and nervousness twinged in his belly but as the spell grew past the developmental stage, it became much easier.

His new form just felt so  _ right _ .

Clawed paws became hands and feet, wings and scales became a heavy cloak, his face became flatter, and everything became so much smaller and more delicate. 

Virgil laughed and wrapped his arms around himself when the aura of magic died down around him. Gone was Virgil the dragon. Here stood Virgil the sorcerer. Virgil the human.

He was human again.

His birds eyed him hesitantly from a nearby tree. Virgil turned to them and smiled, holding out his arm as an offering. “Come, my friends. It’s time for an adventure.”

The parrots squawked and flew to him in an instant, the darker two claimed his shoulders while the green one landed on his arm. Virgil turned away from the forest and faced the ocean. With a simple flick of his wrist, magic flew through the air and a summoning circle appeared in the water. It glowed and whirled for a moment before Virgil lifted his free hand-  _ by the gods he loved having hands again _ \- and a ship rose up from the depths.

Virgil stalked towards his old ship, cloak fluttering behind him. He stepped onto the familiar deck, feeling its sturdiness with human feet for the first time. Judging by the growth of the trees on the island and the aging of his parrots, it’d probably been a decade or two since he’d seen this ship but it was still in perfect condition. Magic tended to make vessels sturdy.

Virgil set sail immediately. It was nice to be back on the sea, even nicer to do it in human form. The fresh, ocean air lifted Virgil’s spirits a bit for the first time in years.

The birds seemed happy too. Whether it be from being on a ship again or because of Virgil, Virgil didn’t know. They were pirates at heart so he assumed the former but he really didn’t know. They were loyal little buggers so they very well could’ve just been excited about him being up and about again.

He docked after about a day or two. His island really wasn’t all that far from Honahlee. The port was bustling when he arrived and he got more than a few odd stares, likely from his attire and purple eyes. For the most part, no one paid him any mind and he was able to wander right up to the castle’s gates.

“How are we supposed to get in?” Virgil murmured, almost to himself. One of his birds cawed loudly and flew off his shoulder and over the gate. Virgil sighed to himself. “Aro, you can’t just- Okay fine. Whatever.”

Whipping up a quick levitation spell, Virgil lifted himself right over the gate. Something in the back of his mind stirred, telling him he should be flying with wings like a dragon, but he pushed it away. He loved his human form. Pale complexion, soft face, strong build, purple hair, he missed it. Even if being a dragon had become his norm, being human was who he was at heart.

Virgil strolled up the path leading to the castle casually. Another one of his birds took off and circled a bit but in the end, they got bored and Virgil saw them fly back to the ship. Virgil was fine with that. He didn’t need them and he still had one of his parrots with him.

He felt kind of like a villain with his dark aesthetic and glowing eyes. Based off appearance alone, it was so obvious he was a sorcerer and the bird wasn’t helping. Villains always had random animal companions in Roman’s stories. Virgil found it rather amusing.

Virgil was probably halfway to the castle by the time someone noticed his arrival. Geez, this place had bad security, didn’t it? A group of knights were patrolling by when they spotted him. Not a minute later, alarms were raised and he was surrounded.

“Surrender intruder!”

“I was not expecting that,” Virgil said aloud. His bird cawed in agreement. “Okay, Demi, you wanna take them or can I do it?”

The parrot gave him a bored look. Virgil sighed and rolled his eyes before thrusting his hands out, knocking the knights away with a blast of magic. They began shouting and some of the remaining knights ran forward. His bird left his shoulder and flew at a knight, furiously clawing at his armored face, as Virgil conjured up a fireball in one hand. He tossed it effortlessly into the crowd and resumed his casual stroll toward the castle.

His parrot returned by the time he reached the doors. Virgil pushed them open with one hand and stepped inside where he became face to face with-

“Roman?” Virgil whispered as a man dressed in red and white stepped forward. A number of knights flanked him on either side, all brandishing swords.

“Stop him, my guard!” Roman ordered. His voice was so much deeper than Virgil remembered. He wasn’t exactly old yet but he’d aged well. He certainly couldn’t be mistaken for a kid anymore. “The witch is making an attempt on the king’s life!”

“Wait Ro- I’m not trying to kill anyone!” Virgil protested but the knights didn’t listen and rushed him. Virgil huffed in annoyance. “Ugh. Demi, go shit on him or scratch him or something. Keep him back. I’m going to take these guys out with a stun spell. Make sure not to get hit.”

The bird squawked and flew at the prince. Roman spluttered comically and stumbled back as he got a face full of feathers. Virgil lifted his arms, feeling the magic crackling between them, and swept his arms out. A wide blast of magic lashed out, taking all the knights down in a single hit.

“You fiend!” Roman cried as he slapped Demi out of the air. “How dare you hurt my knights!”

“How dare you hurt my bird!” Virgil shot right back. “Roman-”

Virgil didn’t get the chance to finish his thought. Roman interrupted with a war cry and suddenly launched himself forward, sword poised to strike.

Virgil took a step back, leaning to one side to avoid getting hit. Surrounding his hand in purple power, he grabbed the blade and wrestled the sword from Roman’s grip. “Roman, listen to me!”

“I listen to no one except the king,” Roman growled and nailed Virgil in the side of the head with a well aimed punch. Virgil stumbled back, not having the time to properly block or roll with the hit. The punch was followed up by a kick and Virgil was sent into the ground.

Virgil looked up at him wide eyed as Roman retrieved his sword and advanced. “Roman! It’s me! Don’t you recognize me?”

“I will not fall for your games, witch,” Roman said, grabbing Virgil by the front of the cloak. “Now, stop fighting if you know it’s good for you. To the dungeon, both you and your bird. No one invades my husband’s castle and gets away with it.”

“I’m not-” Virgil broke off when he saw the resolution in Roman’s eyes. Purple met brown and something in Virgil broke. Roman’s eyes… they were different. He was no longer that happy, carefree boy he sailed the seas and chased horses with. No, this was a man. A man who found love in a king and his kingdom. Roman was once Virgil’s life but Roman’s life was now Patton and Honahlee. He had no room for an old dragon. Not anymore.

Virgil felt emotion rise up in his throat and he let out a choked sob. When had it come to this? Was it his fault? He had to admit, he didn’t put nearly as much into their friendship as Roman did but he was a dragon for crying out loud! It wasn’t like he could come wander into the castle to hang out with Roman and keep their friendship alive. 

He knew that was a dumb excuse but it was all he had. He couldn’t blame time, or distance, or Patton. None of that. It was his fault. He left after Thomas died. What it Roman really was just busy all those years he didn’t visit him? Maybe he’d been planning on visiting him after his coronation? 

A voice in his mind told him he was making excuses again. Roman had gotten married and Virgil hadn’t heard a word. His best friend didn’t even try to share his happiest day with him. He’d abandoned him for a human. A human he could actually love properly.

Virgil could feel tears forming behind his violet eyes. Surely they were visible because Roman looked confused for a moment and his hold faltered. Virgil took advantage of the weakness and shoved Roman away with both hands.

He turned away before he saw Roman hit the ground and drew his cloak in close. “My name is Virgil, you know. Goodbye, Roman. I won’t bother you anymore.”

Virgil didn’t wait to hear Roman’s response. He threw his hands into the air, letting his power erupt from them and flow into a spiral around him. He let his beloved human form melt away and slowly, his natural one returned. Within seconds, the man was gone and only a broken dragon stood in his place.

Virgil couldn’t even find the will to let out a sorrowful cry. He squeezed his eyes shut, keeping any tears from falling, and took to the sky. With a harsh flap of his wings, he crashed through the castle ceiling, leaving a dumbfounded Roman calling after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter hurts my heart. This whole fic hurts my heart. One more chapter guys. Promise the next one's a good one.
> 
> Yes, the birds' names are Ace, Demi, and Aro. Originally they weren't going to have names or even exist but they just showed up and refused to leave.


	8. Slipping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Without his life-long friend, puff could not be brave. So Puff that mighty dragon sadly slipped into his cave

Virgil didn’t go back for his ship. He just flew back home to his island and collapsed heavily on the sandy beach. Sand and dust flew up but he didn’t care. It was a wonder he got home at all. He didn’t know where his birds were and honestly he didn’t really care. He just wanted to be alone right now. Even the thought of their cheerful, comforting presence was unbearable right now.

Virgil let out a long, ragged breath as he shoved his muzzle into the sand and wrapped his paws around his snout. Emotions were raging in him like a tsunami and it was just so hard to keep them all in. Part of Virgil wanted to just give up and succumb to his emotions but there was some instinctive need in the back of his mind telling him he couldn’t. He didn’t understand it but that lone, thin thread was holding him back. It was the only thing keeping him from spilling everything in his heart onto the sand below.

Virgil let his subconscious fight it for a bit. He didn’t know what it was and he didn’t know if he wanted to listen to it or not. Everything just hurt so much. His heart felt raw, like Roman plunged his hand into his chest and tore it out only to squeeze it mercilessly. Well, that was kind of an extreme comparison but that didn’t mean it hurt any less. Devoid of the sole light in his life, Virgil felt weak. Powerless. Defeated. He wasn’t the dramatic type but to say he had no will to live was an understatement. 

The pain was more than emotional though. He could feel something physical too. Deep in his belly, in his ribcage, and behind his eyes, he felt something hot but it was watery too. He felt… icky was the only way he could describe it but the feeling wasn’t gross or unclean. He felt heavy, like he was filled with water. It felt like his soul was sloshing around in his body.

Distantly, he was aware of something rising out of the water just a few yards away from him. By the time he found the energy to look up, it was already standing over him. “Deceit…”

A long, green face cocked to one side, yellow eyes watching with interest. He toed the ground, stalking like a cat and circling him once before coming to a stop again. “Oh, my poor, anxious little stormcloud…”

“Come to gloat, Deceit?” Virgil growled but his snarl had no fire to it. In fact, it felt like all the fire, literal or figurative, in him had died. His insides somehow felt warm and cool at the same time. He didn’t know how that was possible. It was like his heart was killing itself in his chest.

“Quite the opposite really,” Deceit said softly. He moved but, to Virgil’s surprise, it wasn’t to score his claws across his face. Instead, he took a few steps and settled down next to Virgil in the sand. He took more than a few moments, joints creaking, but before long, he pressed his back against Virgil’s and rested his hand on the sand. “I came to apologize. It was the last thing I wanted to do before shedding my fire tear. I’ve been putting it off for months just to find you. Lucky I did. I don’t know how much longer I can hold on.”

“Shed your…?”

Deceit chuckled but there was no humor in it. “Remember the day I cursed you into a dragon?”

“Of course. You promised me a fate worse than death. Isn’t this it?”

Virgil didn’t see Deceit nod but he heard the sand shift and that’s all he needed. “Do you remember the focus of my spell? The fire tear?”

“Yes. A dragon’s life force, right?”

“Right. Ever wonder how I got one out of a dragon?”

“Once or twice.” That was a lie but Virgil didn’t care.

“When a dragon cries, he dies,” Deceit said softly and everything suddenly made so much sense. “I… I wanted to hurt you, Virgil. I knew that if you were a dragon, you’d live long enough to experience this kind of pain but it wasn’t until I became a dragon myself that I realized how truly cruel this fate was. That’s why I came here. I know it means nothing but I’m sorry, Virgil.”

“It’s…” He’d say it was fine but it wasn’t. It really wasn’t. This hurt so bad but Virgil didn’t blame him. He couldn’t blame him. “Why did we hate each other so much? Do you know?”

Deceit shrugged. “I’ve regained some of my old memories but there are still some dark patches. A moment of clarity before the end, if you will. I think… We were close once. We were each other’s worlds. We cast that thousand year immortality spell to be together. I don’t know where we got lost. I don’t think we ever really hated each other though. Not truly.”

“Ironic…” Virgil whispered. He was silent for a moment. “What did you in? I didn’t think there was anything you cared about enough to die for.”

“Remus,” Deceit responded softly. “Just like how you lived for Roman, I lived for Remus.”

Virgil didn’t press. He could understand that. He didn’t like Remus but he barely knew him. If he was even half the man Roman was, he was worth living for. If Deceit felt like sharing, he was curious but if not, Virgil understood. He didn’t know if he could handle talking about Roman right now.

“I’m not really sure what happened to him. I waited for him to escape Honahlee but that never happened so I wandered hoping to find him. A few months ago I ran into those pirates… You know Logan?”

“And Nate and Toby?”

“Yeah, them. They’re straight now… Well, not  _ straight _ straight. You know what I mean. They’re not robbing people anymore. Anyway, I ran into them and Logan told me Remus had been executed. It took everything I had not to shed my fire tear then and there.”

“You came looking for me,” Virgil concluded. “Why? Just to apologize? I’m broken as you, Deceit. An apology won’t do either of us any good.”

“I came to offer you a second chance,” Deceit told him, voice taking a harder tone. “A dragon shed’s his fire tear when his heart breaks but if someone catches it, the fire within can be rekindled. If I catch your tear and take it to Roman-”

“No. Thank you, Deceit, but I don’t… I just want this to end. I’ve lived a long life. It- It hurts. It hurts really bad that Roman doesn’t need or want me anymore but…”

Virgil trailed off, losing his words. He choked on his own words, the emotion in his throat cutting off his voice. A silent sob wracked his body. He lifted his head to face Deceit and saw his yellow eyes welling up as well. “I understand. Goodbye, Virgil.”

That was all Virgil needed to hear. He closed his eyes and a lone drop fell. It rolled down his cheek and he felt his insides go cold. It hit the ground, setting it ablaze with violet power. A moment later, a yellow splash joined it and the pair crumbled.

Virgil suddenly felt very light and he stepped out of his body, leaving his physical form behind. He glanced down at himself, seeing nothing but a loose violet aura where his new form should be. He cursed himself. After all that, was he really doomed to wandering the world as a lost spirit?

“Look,” a voice said and Virgil looked up to see a yellow aura hovering in front of him. It slowly molded into a human form, Deceit’s human form, and a hand reached to point upward. Virgil followed his old foe’s gaze to an opening in the clouds. Light spilled out from behind it. “There’s the gateway to the afterlife.”

Virgil looked down at himself and let his misty form shift into his human one. “I don’t know if I’m ready to move on.”

“Me neither,” Deceit admitted and suddenly he was a dragon. He flew up a bit. “I’m… I’m going to go look for Remus’s grave. Say goodbye. I might check up on those pirates too. You should go visit Roman and Patton. You know… Tie things off before we go.”

Virgil nodded hesitantly and his human form shifted into his dragonic one. Like Deceit, he wasn’t solid. He was just a transparent blob of purple but its shape seemed to bend to his will. For now at least. It felt nice shifting through his forms like this. It felt so easy, so natural. “Will you… Can we meet up again before going to the afterlife? I don’t want to go alone.”

Deceit nodded and smiled fondly. “Of course, stormcloud.”

The nickname struck a chord in Virgil’s chest but Deceit was gone before he could ask about it. Was that something Deceit called Virgil at some point during their history together? Deceit had said they’d been close once. Virgil didn’t know. He sort of wished he could remember. But now wasn’t the time for that.

He started by visiting Thomas’s grave. He’d never had the chance while he was alive and he just wanted to say goodbye one last time. Flying through Honahlee’s city was no difficult feat as a ghost though it was surprisingly difficult to find what he wanted. Virgil expected something a bit more elaborate but Thomas’s grave was a simple one, just another headstone in a plot of many. Fitting, somehow. It’s what Thomas would have wanted.

He then moved onto the castle. Phasing through the gates stirred up some memories from just a few hours prior but he didn’t let it slow him.

Virgil found his birds fluttering around the grounds. He hoped they’d stay. Roman would recognize them eventually. He’d take good care of them. Virgil didn’t want them to find his body. He knew the birds loved him. Finding it would break them. They deserved to be happy too.

It took Virgil a while to find Roman but when he did, a wave of peace fell over him. He was with Patton, the two of them curled up in their shared bed. Virgil’s heart immediately softed at the sight of the two of them. They so clearly loved each other and Virgil never really had the chance to see that love they shared. 

Roman was still wearing the gear he’d been wearing when he encountered Virgil and his face was stained with tears. Clearly, he’d gone to Patton after Virgil left. Virgil felt another jolt of sorrow but this time it was for his beloved Princey, not because of. 

Virgil tried to imagine what happened before he arrived. Had they talked? Roman was upset. Did he feel bad for attacking Virgil? Did he miss him? Did he regret not convincing him to stay? Virgil hoped so but he also didn’t. He’d like to think that Roman still cared for him but he didn’t want his friend to feel the hurt he did. 

Roman looked content with Patton. He was in good hands and that was enough to leave Virgil satisfied. Virgil leaned down to nuzzle him one last time before turning away and flying back to the island.

Deceit was waiting for him, playing with his aura a bit. He looked up at Virgil’s arrival. “Are you ready?”

“I think so.”

“Then let’s go.”

Virgil nodded and the two flew upward toward the light trickling out of the sky. It struck him like a sunbeam and Virgil felt his anxiety fade, washing away like sand on a beach. This was the end and he was okay with that. 

_ Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea… _

_ And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honahlee... _

_ Little Jackie paper loved that rascal Puff... _

_ And brought him strings and sealing wax and other fancy stuff. _

Virgil and Deceit spiraled upward toward the heavens. Virgil’s eyes met Deceit’s and the other dragon smiled at him. Sharp yellow and intense violet were now calm and faded. Their bitter rivalry was gone. Now they were only two eternal companions flying toward their demise.

_ Together they would travel on a boat with billowed sail... _

_ Jackie kept a lookout perched on puff's gigantic tail... _

_ Noble kings and princes would bow whene'er they came... _

_ Pirate ships would lower their flag when puff roared out his name. _

Virgil noticed flakes of color falling behind them. Even though they did not have physical forms, they were shedding their scales. He looked down at himself and saw his dragon form fading away. It began shifting into something more spectral, something words couldn’t describe. The human mind couldn’t fathom what came after death. He didn’t try to find words for there were no words. He could already feel his mind changing into something more and he knew he’d understand in time. Still, something in him missed having a proper body but this wasn’t too bad. He still saw violet when he looked down and that was all he needed to know he was still himself.

_ A dragon lives forever but not so little boys... _

_ Painted wings and giant rings make way for other toys... _

_ One grey night it happened, Jackie Paper came no more... _

_ And puff that mighty dragon, he ceased his fearless roar… _

Above everything, he missed Roman. Virgil wished he’d had a bit more time with him but he knew that couldn’t be so. Roman was still alive and he’d live for a while longer. He had a good life, a happy one. He deserved to see it to its natural end. Hopefully the two would be reunited in the afterlife.

_ His head was bent in sorrow, green scales fell like rain... _

_ Puff no longer went to play along the cherry lane... _

_ Without his life-long friend, puff could not be brave... _

_ So Puff that mighty dragon sadly slipped into his cave. _

Scales continued to fall and the two spectres continued to ascend, rising higher and higher. The light was so close. Virgil was almost blinded by it. He smiled and let its warmth wash over him. He closed his eyes, sighing softly, and then there was nothing. 

_ Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea... _

_ And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honahlee... _

_ Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea... _

_ And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honahlee. _

Virgil was no more. His story, his song, was finally over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we’re finally done. Let me tell you, this story was a wild ride to write. I finished it before posting but didn’t get any comments until like chapter 6 which was kind of disconcerting but your lovely words made the wait worth it. A lot of you like my take on this childhood song and I’m really glad it worked out the way it did. My initial plans for this story were really vague but I felt like I really needed to get it right. I’ve never written a story like this before in all my years of writing and I think I can safely say I’m proud of this one.  
> If you like the ending to this story, check out my fic Five Old Men Sitting On a Bench (Not Now, Not Ever. Never Again). The ending to this fic is roughly based on the ending to that oneshot.  
> Obviously, the summaries at the top of each chapter are the lyrics of Puff the Magic Dragon that chapter is based on and the story as a whole is based off that song but I took a few themes from other things as well. The Fire Tear thing is from a book called A Fire Within. I hope it fit into this story well. The fantasy aspects of this story are loosely based on a number of books and video games but I can’t recall which. Fantasy's kind of the same everywhere.  
> Anyway, thank you for reading. This story was an emotional rollercoaster to write and I hope you guys felt even just a little bit of the feelings this song is meant to invoke. See you later guys, gals, and non-binary pals!


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